


Then a soldier

by ff_fan



Series: Seven Ages [4]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Perfect Dark, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Deaths, Espionage, Not SPECTRE Compliant, Q centric, Q is M, Slice of Life, Workplace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-04-26 01:37:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 88,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4984924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ff_fan/pseuds/ff_fan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of Skyfall, Silva and the death of Olivia Mansfield, Q (Falkirk Bond nee Holmes) brow-beats, blackmails and persuades an interview panel that he would make a better M than Mallory. The Prime Minister ignoring the panel's advice, was going to appoint Mallory over the strange 26 year old Omega until he meets him.</p>
<p>In his first year as M Falkirk settles in, coming to terms with running the organisation he officially joined as a 16 year old. Coping with a supportive but still Alpha mate (James Bond), friends (Selene/Daniel/Alec), family (Sherlock/Mycroft), the rigours of command and the legacy of an old foe coming back wanting to wipe the Holmes line from existence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Previously

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with [ Dragon_Fire](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_Fire/pseuds/Dragon_Fire) and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge two who volunteered to proofread.
> 
> An author [1MissMolly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/1MissMolly/pseuds/1MissMolly) who offered to proofread some time ago. I did not want to take up the time of a publishing author and would recommend her writing if you are wanting more romance with openly expressed emotions entwined into the storylines, she writes it better than I. Her scenes between characters like Mycroft and Q are particularly excellent. She tends to have a higher concentration of James/Q as well. 
> 
> The second came, when bogged down on my last fic when I was rewriting chapters, writing whole new ones, editing, proofing and uploading all at the same time. She stepped forward and offered to proof and Beta Then a Soldier. I am working with [ Dragon_Fire](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_Fire/pseuds/Dragon_Fire) and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> As some may know. I am proud of my imagination and the worlds I create then unashamedly steal to populate. However the physical act of writing has been a confidence issue for me. To begin with I refused to read comments wishing to avoid the negative ones at the cost of the positive ones. I slowly changed that policy when getting more positive comments and people putting up or shutting up and wish to thank the readers, supporters and commenters and now the Beta Reader for the story Dragon_Fire.

_One man in his time plays many parts,_  
_His acts being seven ages_ \- William Shakespeare 1564-1616  
  
**At First the Infant**  
  
At age 15 Falkirk Holmes was kidnapped. Taken to Hong Kong for the hand over between the mercenaries that did the job and the mysterious person who wanted him. A regional Operative James Bond was ordered to intercept him.  
  
Seeing an opportunity to deprive a rival of a valuable asset M deliberately delayed James Bond in bringing the Omega back. As they made slow progress on their journey, going East from Hong Kong across America to New York, they became close. A tenuous bond began to form during that time.  
  
Seeing what M was doing, both James and Falkirk came to an agreement to fully bond for their own benefit. Falkirk wanting to be free of his Father while James would have control over a powerful asset of MI6.  
  
**Then, the winning schoolboy**  
  
Picking up from just after the bonding, Falkirk Bond and James Bond settled into their new life. Falkirk starting by doing unsanctioned jobs for M. Officially joining MI6 at age 16, as a Hacker.  
  
It became known to James that Falkirk wasn't a legitimate child of Siger (called a mongrel), then both finding out he was not the only illegitimate child Siger fathered. Falkirk's non biological Mother did not permit his Father to have a bound Omega and resented the illegitimate child living in her home leading to an oppressive and bullying atmosphere.  
  
A year into his employment Falkirk Bond then became the apprentice to R (Daniel Carrington) of Q Branch. When the newly appointed 007 found his Omega in the presence of a strange Alpha he let his possessive nature as an Alpha overwhelm him and his Omega. R, a special recruit deemed unsuitable for the field, who did not want to join MI6 protected his new apprentice from his mate and established dominance over James. After dominance was established James begrudgingly accepted the Alpha's presence in his Omega's life.  
  
After James brought Falkirk a bomb maker's phone Falkirk was able to track the planned bombing of Airlines. He proposed operation 'Coventry', a plan to exchange planes allowing a decoy to be destroyed for public show. This was later discovered by Sherlock after Mycroft stupidly used 'Bond Air' and 'Flight 007' as associated code names  leading Sherlock to his younger brother.  
  
After a brief infatuation with an Alpha (Vesper Lynd) James returned to his Omega and their union became stronger in the aftermath of her death.  
  
During the course of his duties Falkirk came across another hacker. Meeting up with him Falkirk saw something in him. After hacking Mycroft, and with the estranged Sherrinford (Shane Ford) still unable to supply answers, Falkirk needed to seek them from his father.  
  
As life progressed suspicious activity in Cyber Division came to light. Taking his information to M, an investigation found a list of problems and incompetence from Cyber Division. Falkirk was then made Division Head on M's recommendation.  
  
When an opportunity presented itself Falkirk, James and Alec arrived in New York. There, a suspicious M had dispatched 002 (Selene Corvin) to intercept them. With two Double O's and an Omega known to have ripped out an Alpha's eye, she decided to watch them rather than interfere.  
  
They questioned Siger and founded he had spent a heat cycle with Joe Moriarty. In order the gain favour with Selene, Falkirk gave her the location of a person implicated in the murder of her Omega.  
  
Falkirk supplied a known prostitute with some information that she then used to stop Jim Moriarty from killing Sherlock.  
   
After M was targeted by her bodyguard Falkirk looked again at the MI6 systems. A message to the bodyguard was found. However, Falkirk found someone had ensured he would find the message. To seal the holes in MI6's IT system and to cut off the unknown hacker in their system Falkirk recommended it be replaced.  
  
To have the authority to completely replace MI6's IT System, at age 19, nearly 20 Falkirk was appointed Quartermaster.  
  
**And then the lover**  
  
As Quartermaster Falkirk Bond replaces MI6's IT system. Now secure he settles into his position.  
  
After a disastrous mission Selene Corvin's Double O status is revoked and Falkirk demands her as his personal bodyguard.  
  
Having learned that his father got his prostitute pregnant Falkirk heads to New York where he meets his new brother (Cody Matthews). In order to protect and support his Brother's papa (Keading Matthews), Falkirk disposes of the pimp and seizes his assets in the hope of making a safe place for the others to work free of oppression and fear. Allowing those to work, with genuine safety and security those wishing to leave are allowed to do so without threat. Falkirk becomes a crime lord.  
  
With Moriarty closing in on Sherlock Falkirk starts to stress. Still in communication with Moriarty Falkirk knows part of his plan but not all. As Falkirk starts to prepare for the upcoming confrontation he learns of problems at his brothel. Unable to attend himself Falkirk dispatches someone who can act on his behalf. At the last moment Falkirk steps in to help his brothers, conscripting Sherlock, and dispatching him to deal with Moriarty's network.  
  
About to return to New York. M demands Falkirk take the newest MI6 recruits to New York for a live training scenario. Testing the capabilities of the first Omega to be considered for the field, Moneypenny's over reliance on orders and a Beta who seems to pass under everyone's radar.  
  
As Falkirk oversees Sherlock on his mission the help Falkirk was giving George Smiley comes to a head. When Peter Guillam steals some information from MI5 Falkirk steps in. Reporting to MI5 Falkirk goads the mole into making contact. In a nondescript house Smiley, Falkirk, Guillam and Selene lay in wait for their prey. Bill Haydn is exposed and Siger Holmes is finally removed from MI5.  
  
While handling Sherlock, dealing with Q Branch and the fallout from MI5's mole, Falkirk's heat leave allows him time to bask in the closeness with his Alpha. While Q is on leave we see what happens around MI6, following M, R, Alec and a few Double O's. In this time there was a hacking attempt on Station H.  
  
M's growing concern with the new Prime Minister leads her to approach Falkirk in helping to temper the most dangerous politician she has ever met. An official request by the CIA takes Falkirk and the Deputy Director(Alan Blunt) to America. Investigating why a drone went rogue Falkirk again hears about dataDyne and the NSA director.  
  
M's Husband dies. Villiers suffers the breaking of his bond and can't look after his son so as godfather the responsibility falls to Falkirk. Another hacking attempt causes Falkirk to dispatch the head of cyber division to investigate on site.  
  
After 004 is dispatched the hacker in Hong Kong is further investigated. Another attack occurs in Argentina, believing it to be a misdirection M and Falkirk focus on Hong Kong. 004 is found dead and Kate Tigress disappears. Falkirk is called to the Royal Mail depot where Kate Tigress' body is found addressed to 'Clever Boi'. The hacking stops and leads dry up.  
  
Again dataDyne comes to Falkirk's notice. After making his case, M agrees to embed an agent in the technology and weapons manufacturer. With Daniel's assistance Falkirk embeds Ciri Evans as a bodyguard to the CEO of the company(Cassandra De Vries).  
  
After a high profile meeting between terrorists ended in a farce because all present were undercover agents from western agencies, a plan to collate all active agents was proposed. In preparation to populate the secure database a Double O disappears while on a night out. With Sherlock's help MI6 find him and learn that the database is known about and the couriers transporting the information were being targeted. A new plan needs to be drawn up.  
  
The courier transporting the agent list is diverted then targeted. James is shot and killed but Falkirk in a state of denial carries on regardless until he learns of Moneypenny's return. Using a prototype glass and plastic gun Falkirk sneaks into E branch where he attempts to kill Moneypenny.  
  
Seeing how the Operatives, departments and people were rallying in support of the Quartermaster M decides on leniency at this delicate time. Forced to take a drug to end his bond to James Falkirk recovered in the brig with the help of his friends.  
  
Seeing her time was over M started to plan for the future of MI6 and appointed Daniel to deputy director. With a problem in New York and Falkirk unable to help, M wants to do something for the hurting Omega so she takes Selene and descends on the remnants of Oso's old gang finally getting rid of them so Falkirk's hopes could finally be achieved.  
  
After the bombing and the death of Blunt, M's deputy and with Falkirk improving M no longer cares how it looks, or the potential political fall out to having a young (25 year old) Omega as her direct successor. She appoints him Deputy Director of MI6.  
  
James washes up in a coastal village with no electricity, telephone or mobile. Recovering he eventually gets a ride out on a van transporting fish further inland. There is a reunion and relief all round  
  
While James is investigating Patrice Falkirk is dispatched to Afghanistan to negotiate the release of two exposed Agents. M then orders him to Hong Kong where he meets James and the man responsible for the attack. Falkirk learns Silva is also responsible for his kidnapping and the murder of 004 and Kate Tigress.  
  
With M dead, Falkirk becomes acting director. Through blackmail, threats and compassion Falkirk was recommended to be Director. The Prime Minister wanting control of MI6 ignores the recommendation insisting Mallory will be the new director. Then Urquhart meets the Omega who was the apprentice to M, had taught, acted in missions and corralled some of the most volatile Alphas in the service. The Prime Minister backs down and Q becomes M.  
  
  
**Then a soldier**  
  
Uploading  
  
**And then the justice**  
  
Editing  
  
**The sixth age shifts**  
  
Writing  
  
**Last scene of all**  
  
Planned  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 tomorrow.


	2. Welcome to Vauxhall Cross, M

Just behind the lobby of MI6 the inscribed memorial wall stood. Every employee who had died in service to MI6 regardless of their position within the organisation, ingrained in memoriam. Falkirk stood looking as he had done for every other person he knew. 'Olivia Mansfield' the latest name added for posterity along with that of Alan Blunt and the eight others who had died because of Raoul Silva.  
  
Falkirk Bond, professional cover name Thomas McLair, had held the position of M for a little under a couple of months now and it was the first time he had entered the now secure building. Taking the opportunity before heading for the rebuilt Executive Branch, Falkirk stood paying his respects.  
  
“You haven't had his name struck off,” James said walking up.  
  
Falkirk arched an eyebrow at his Alpha who had vanished a few days ago and now sauntered in with his tan topped up. If he hadn't known James had been repaying a debt Falkirk would have been rather annoyed, both as mate and now as M.  
  
Following James' line of sight to the other name James was talking about. “Despite what Rodriguez became he did fight and was sacrificed for Queen and Country. He is owed that at least,” Falkirk stated.  
  
Walking away James darted to catch up to Falkirk. Riding the lift up Falkirk bypassed the security checkpoints, exercising his 'Access All Areas' credentials to enter the still wary atmosphere of the Executive branch, virtually identical to the previous layout. A communal central space with M's outer office at the front of the building (left of the entrance), several private offices and conference rooms attached to the communal area.  
  
Heading for the outer office, Falkirk passed the empty PA's desk and the few chairs of the waiting area, entering his office. “I have a view,” Falkirk observed looking over the Thames and London skyline. His Rennie Mackintosh furniture had been moved from Q Branch replacing Mansfield's. Falkirk froze a moment. It still felt surreal, or like he was sneaking into a parent's office and expecting that parent to return and give him trouble for playing where he shouldn't.  
  
Taking a seat at his desk, the window over the Thames to his left with a low table and a few chairs in front of it. The internal window/projector wall was to the right overlooking E Branch. The door in the far right corner was on the same wall as the internal window. There was a hidden door on the wall behind, into a wash room. Directly behind was a low set of cupboards and drawers which were not from his old office but matched his furniture. In Mansfield's time there was a decanter and glasses sitting on top, but his was currently bare.  
  
Falkirk pushed aside James' latest fitness reports. “Q recommended you learnt to shoot with your left hand but you have improved on your pre Silva marksmanship scores,” Falkirk said giving James a teasing smile.  
  
“Q can take a long walk of a short pier,” James shot back.  
  
“Well Double O Seven ready to get back in to it?” Falkirk asked.  
  
“Always,” James returned accepting the folder Falkirk held out.  
  
“Nothing too glamorous but you can't save the world on every mission,” Falkirk stated as James read over the document.  
  
James nodded turning to go and prepare for the mission when Falkirk called out, “Your mate would appreciate it if you didn't use your face to block every punch going.”  
  
“Yes Sir,” James returned pulling the door shut behind him. Falkirk noticed James along with a few others were not using his proper title.  
  
Going over mission briefs and the intelligence reports took most of the day. When the city lights started twinkling in the distance and Falkirk switched on his lamp, his door gently swung open and a appreciative whistle sounded.  
  
“Double O Six this isn't a museum,” Falkirk admonished. Then contemplated the few museums he had been to, "You're not meant to whistle in museums either."  
  
“Can't I come see my favourite boss,” Alec drawled perching on Falkirk's desk.  
  
“James got the latest Double O required mission,” Falkirk stated looking into the intruding Operative's eyes.  
  
“Favouritism,” Alec shot back with a mischievous smile.  
  
“Unless you're willing to play secretary I have nothing for you at the moment,” Falkirk said absently, returning his attention to his paperwork.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye Falkirk saw Alec pinch his nose, giving his voice a flat tone as he made it high pitched with an English tinge more reminiscent of the fifties era, “M, your five-thirty is here.”  
  
“Very...,” A knock interrupted Falkirk's response to Alec's joke.  
  
Looking round Alec's bulk, Mallory stood at the open door waiting. “Not interrupting am I? You don't seem to have...” Mallory trailed off looking at the empty PA desk.  
  
“No, Double O Six is just leaving,” Falkirk stated giving a meaningful look to Alec. Taking the hint Alec moved off his desk and out of his office. Much to Falkirk's annoyance he took up residence at the secretary's desk spinning around until the computer logged in.  
  
Indicating Mallory should take a seat, Falkirk apologised that the bar had not been stocked. “Quite all right,” Mallory dismissed.  
  
“So to what do I owe the pleasure, Minister?” Falkirk asked leaning back.  
  
“Just a courtesy visit from the Intelligence Minister to the new Director of MI6,” Mallory returned pleasantly before a slight frown creased his brow. “How did you do it? Even your predecessor couldn't get Urquhart to roll over.”  
  
Giving a knowing smile, “It's better to know your enemy than yourself,” Falkirk stated.  
  
“You're not even going to give me a hint?” Mallory asked. Falkirk slowly shaking his head was the answer, not to the surprise of Mallory.  
  
True to his word, Mallory's visit was just a courtesy only staying for a few minutes of casual chatter. Calling it a night, Falkirk packed up coming out of his office. Alec still waiting at the secretary's desk, “Daniel wanted me to give you a message. ‘Hurry up choosing another Deputy Director so you two can be in the same building again' end message,” Alec stated moving cards about the screen.  
  
“Next on my list,” Falkirk said continuing to walk away. Selene came out of her small office attached to the Executive Branch to escort him home.  
  
When Falkirk entered the flat James was laying on the couch watching a boxing match. “Isn't Alec with you?”  
  
“I think he was waiting on Daniel,” Falkirk said walking up to the back of the couch, sliding over the top to fall on top of his waiting Alpha. Falkirk nuzzled and kissed him enjoying the closeness.  
     
\--  
  
With James away Falkirk contacted Mycroft and at his suggestion they were going to the latest restaurant that had employed Mycroft's favourite chef.  
  
As Falkirk ate his salmon starter Mycroft broached the subject of their Mother's Christmas party. “Why does she want me to come?” Falkirk asked.  
  
“I could give a litany of reasons but she wants to show you off. At the time of the invitation you were a high ranking MI6 Executive and Friend of the Dowager Duchess of Rothsea and her grandson. Now you are M, first Omega M in history, the highest ranking Omega in any organisation of the country. People know you challenged and won against the Prime Minister,” Mycroft explained.  
  
“I'm the right sort even if I'm from the wrong side of the sheets,” Falkirk returned with a hint of malice towards the woman that culture dictated was his mother, but was more accurately described as (evil) stepmother. By the sound of it, she was trying to rope him into becoming an active pack member.  
  
“Even if you don't like her she has more influence than you could imagine. She could be useful,” Mycroft said neutrally.  
  
“Fine,” Falkirk responded not liking the idea but seeing the benefits.  
  
It wasn't until the dessert course that Mycroft brought up the next topic. “How did you get Urquhart to roll over?”  
  
Falkirk wanted to help his brother. There was a hint of desperation about the question as if Mycroft was truly afraid of the man. Falkirk was afraid of him too but Falkirk's fear was named physiology. Urquhart was an Alpha, it wasn't his manoeuvrings or what he had done, that was all par for the course in the Intelligence community. Falkirk himself had done things every bit as bad in his time and was sure his hands would be getting dirtier in the future.  
  
“I played to my strengths and his weaknesses,” Falkirk answered not willing to share his advantage. Too many people knowing would weaken his only advantage over the intimidating and ruthless Prime Minister.  
  
“I recommended you, the interview committee recommended you, Admiral Roebuck recommended you and he listened to none of us. Until he met you, Mallory was going to be Urquhart's stooge,” Mycroft said exasperated, knowing Falkirk had something on the man but not what.  
  
“The most civil encounter with the Prime Minister was after your appointment. He said he now knew why I was too afraid to cross you. What did you do?” Mycroft demanded in a quiet hiss.  
  
“I threatened him politically, financially and criminally. None of it would be admissible but it would destroy his career. Before you ask, no I'm not willing to share just for your convenience,” Falkirk stated.  
  
With an annoyed glare Mycroft sat back stabbing the last morsel of his chocolate orange soufflé and bringing it to his mouth.  
  
Falkirk didn't want the night to end on a sour note but couldn't help his brother in this. He and the Prime Minister having come to an agreement. Neither would act against the other. Mutual Non Aggression or Mutually Assured Destruction it meant the same. Mycroft would have to fight this battle on his own.  
  
\--  
  
Falkirk was halfway down the street, when he stopped. A big black Jaguar with police escort sailed past and he remembered that was his car. Old commuting habits dying hard, he ran back up the street.  
  
Selene was standing at his car dressed in a dark grey trouser suit, the old black leather having been given up for something more befitting the bodyguard of M. Her loose shoulder length hair moving in the breeze and her blue eyes looking highly annoyed. “M! You shouldn’t be wandering about without a bodyguard.”  
  
“Yes Selene,” Falkirk responded and stepped into the car, Selene closing the door behind him. James, Alec and a few others were only able to call him Sir. Others, Tanner, Selene, Daniel (publicly, privately he would always be Laddie) and Helmsley chief amongst them were adamant they all called him M. This reinforced his position and who he now needed to be, including reminding him it was no longer safe for him to walk to the tube station like he had done since he bonded with James about ten years ago.  
  
Even now when someone shouts 'M', Falkirk looks for the diminutive Alpha he deemed to replace. Most of the time it still felt like she would march into E Branch and give him a bollocking for daring to sit in her office.  
   
Shaking off the thought as London moved past the windows, Falkirk picked up a supplied newspaper raising an eyebrow at the announcement of the death of the Queen. Officially he had sworn allegiance to her but he had never been a royalist or even a republican. It had always been James and M then Alec, Selene, Daniel and the others that were his motivation.  
  
Arriving at E Branch Falkirk headed for Tanner's office, still not comfortable calling for people. Even as M he should walk in unless there was a privacy notice or locked door just like his predecessor would do and often did. Knocking and hearing Tanner call, “Come”  
  
Falkirk pushed the door open and Tanner stood. “M,” he greeted, forcing himself to use the proper designation.  
  
“The Queen, what is the protocol?”  
  
“I was looking into that,” Tanner said shuffling papers on his desk then picking up a piece of paper that was yellowed with age and handing it over.  
  
Reading it over, it was the record of the then Director of MI6's response to the death of the Queen's father. As long as there weren't any suspicious circumstances MI6 had to send an official condolence to the palace, while M had to send one a little more personal. “Draft the MI6 response,” Falkirk ordered Tanner and was immediately handed the official letter.  
  
Going to his office Falkirk pulled out the paper with the embossed MI6 crest at the top. He'd practiced a few times before writing the letter to the palace. “Shit!” Falkirk swore when he signed it Q.  
  
Before signing the second letter Falkirk stopped, took a few breaths, ‘M, M, M’ he thought and signed it with his proper title.  
  
\--  
  
Standing in Westminster Abbey Falkirk was in full morning suit with Tanner beside him, also in the tails of the very formal dress code. Further ahead was the thin Prime Minister in a morning suit as well. Unlike Falkirk, he wore a cravat with a diamond pin.  
  
Behind the as yet uncrowned King, Mycroft actually looked rather upset. Beside the King was his only son, a small gangly blond Alpha who had not yet put on the mass most Alphas did and only reached up to his father's shoulder. The divorced wife was relegated further back than Falkirk the distance from the front indicating seniority.  
  
The King turned and briefly spoke with Mycroft. Then in a rather stiff fashion the King placed a hand on his son's shoulder. It was stiff, uncomfortable and obviously an instruction from Mycroft to make the King look more human.  
  
Falkirk had empathy for the family and for those who wanted to give the previous monarch a respectful and dignified send off. But like with M, Falkirk wished the Bishop would hurry up. He suspected the sermons were more about a crowning point in the Bishop's career rather than paying respects. He had become quite good at identifying ambition and the church was no exception. Thankfully a hymn broke the sermon. Falkirk quite liked the hymns; although not religious he liked the unity of everyone working together even if it was just for a song.  
  
\--  
  
Then he had to come back to the Abbey to see what boiled down to a man getting a golden hat put on his head by an old man in a dress, also wearing a funny hat. 'Perhaps I am a republican' Falkirk mused to himself.  
  
Mycroft on the other hand swelled with emotion at seeing the King crowned, shedding a tear as everyone called out, “God save the King.”


	3. Buisness in New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With James away and a moment of quiet Falkirk returns to New York, to check on his expanded businesses, the negations undertaken by M and to visit his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks to those who read, left kudos and commented.

It had been too long since he had been to New York and now he was M getting in undetected took some work and a favour from his old friend at the CIA.  
  
Falkirk stepped off the plane in tattered jeans and hoodie. His glasses were already designed to distort common reference points used in automatic facial recognition, so the CCTV systems would not flag that M was coming into the country. Selene followed a few passengers behind and with no missions requiring Alec's expertise he preceded several passengers in front, an opportunity to spend time together since the events of Silva.  
  
Arriving at the rebuilt club Falkirk was impressed by the new upmarket design. Not an obscene picture, pulsing light or deafening music to be heard. A tall, slender, Alpha male in sleek suit, standing just inside the door greeted Falkirk. “May I be of service,” came his charming upstate New York accent, most wouldn't even notice the slight break indicating it wasn't his true accent.  
  
Falkirk gave the Alpha a glance, far more professional than the last time when he’d not been recognised by the bouncer. “I am here to see Mr Paulik.”  
  
An Omega male came towards them in a custom light grey suit setting off his ocean blue eyes. The Alpha looked to the approaching Omega and the tray with a matt green cocktail on it, understanding he was new and Brad knew this customer well enough to prepare a drink order. The Alpha stiffened a bit more in the presence of an Omega flanked by two scary Alpha bodyguards, “Who should I say is here?”  
  
“The Omega,” Falkirk replied, getting a nervous smile from the bouncer.  
  
Taking the drink off the tray, thrilled to see Brad was still here after the unpleasantness that M had to clear up, he caught the Omega's arm. Falkirk walked back to the bar with Brad, asking after him until Paulik arrived.  
  
There was nothing of real importance to discuss. M had done a marvellous job in stabilising the business and reining in the competition. Falkirk was just here to show face. The Czech agent, Paulik went through everything thoroughly. M had gotten rid of the last of Oso's men, including the daughter Serendipity. The clubs had to pay a fee to a local family but it was a token rate to show respect rather than to extort money.  
  
Those that refused M's deal were not allowed to walk away from her negotiations. Their territories were divided up with Falkirk getting the strip clubs and brothels, the other families getting the rest.  
  
With Paulik, Falkirk toured his businesses. He now had five new establishments in New York ranging from a rough strip bar to a high-end bordello along with O and Irene Adler's exclusive establishment. At Adler's Falkirk learned, The Woman and her Ma'ams were giving lessons in etiquette and customer relations. Positions in her household were really sought after and the clientele was of the highest echelons. As M, Falkirk truly considered installing CCTV as a source of blackmail but refused to endanger those who were a part of this life, for his own convenience and gain.  
  
With his tour over with Falkirk extended his hand to Paulik and Adler, her house being the last stop. Telling both to keep up the good work. The Czech agent gave a nervous smile, “Anything to avoid another visit from your mother.”  
  
Falkirk couldn't help the flinch. M's legacy seeming to be everywhere he turned. “You are safe there Mr Paulik.”  
  
\--  
  
On the second day of the trip they made a short stop at Universal Exports: New York, Station N by another name. Commandeering a local operative and a few prearranged toys, Falkirk, Selene and Alec headed for their next port of call.  
  
The light shone through the stained glass window as they walked along the side walk. A mosaic of green and yellow diamonded checked pattern, the window let light through but could not be looked through even when right beside it.  
  
They entered the long and narrow virtually empty restaurant, the sign on the door proclaiming, 'Closed for private function'. The inside wall was lined with semi circle booths and doors leading to the kitchens. Smaller round tables filled up the open space.  
  
Alec and Selene flanked Falkirk as he approached a single Male Alpha eating alone at the table furthest from the door. Two bodyguards detached from different tables, one to the left and the other to the right. Intercepting them, Alec and Selene quickly subdued the approaching bodyguards. Falkirk didn't break his stride.  
  
“Only one person I know walks up to me like that,” the seated man stated unconcerned. Sitting back the balding heavyset Alpha picked up his glass, taking a sip of the wine, “I have a feeling you are her successor.”  
  
“Mr Soprano,” Falkirk greeted, not making the final approach until invited. It was all a careful dance of posture and respect. Soprano postured by making Falkirk come to him. Falkirk postured by having the gangster's bodyguards pinned to the floor with guns held to their heads. Soprano showed respect by ignoring the assault on his bodyguards. Falkirk showing respect by waiting until invited to sit.  
  
Holding his hand towards the seat opposite, “Your _Mother_ warned me to expect an Omega. I was saddened to hear of her passing,” Soprano said. The emphasis on mother indicating Soprano knew it was just how M had described herself rather than being a blood relation. Soprano may know who they were, however names real, professional or cover were never given to him.  
  
“She was a good woman my teacher, guide and mentor,” Falkirk said accepting the offered glass of wine along with the seat.  
  
“I trust my understanding with your predecessor will be honoured?” Soprano said looking Falkirk over and taking a large swig of his glass.  
  
“As long as neither attempts to take advantage,” Falkirk returned looking directly into the Alpha's eyes.  
  
“I would never dream,” Soprano returned with a faux affronted act.  
  
“I do apologise,” Falkirk said with false humility, “It's just most Alpha’s don't quite believe I’m able and willing to rip off their knot and make them eat it,” he continued pleasantly keeping his cold stare on Soprano.  
  
Soprano couldn't help the subtle shift, defensively pulling his legs together. “I would never think of doubting your resolve.”  
  
“Well it has been a pleasure and I thank you for your assistance,” Falkirk said extending his hand to the Alpha.  
  
“Take care of yourself,” Soprano said, waving Falkirk off.  
  
Walking through the restaurant, Falkirk’s relief at the lack of a true Alpha posturing display lasted until he placed his hand on the brass handle.  
  
“I will have to increase your fees though, you know administration, taxes and the like,” Soprano called.  
  
Giving a casual false smile Falkirk bowed his head and tilted it slightly, the HUD coming on-line. Cross hairs appeared in Falkirk's sight, the glasses and phone working in unison to paint a target for the sniper.  
  
Running his eyes over Soprano and down to the chair leg, a quiet crack sounded followed by Soprano falling to the floor. Tony Soprano's bodyguards drew their guns but didn't know where to aim. Alec and Selene prepared but remained outwardly relaxed. The bodyguards were confused and unsure what was happening.  
  
“What the Fuck!” Soprano bellowed picking himself up from the floor.  
  
“My predecessor negotiated a fair price Mr Soprano,” Falkirk stated as a slow creaking shear sounded. The window finally couldn't stay up with the sudden hole punched in it and fell down, shattering against the floor. The shards spreading across the ground like water spilling.  
  
With confusion, Soprano looked to the now shattered remains of the window, there to protect him from snipers and surveillance. Then he looked at his chair, noticing the splintered and missing leg and bullet hole in the floor indicating a precision shot. The lack of a bang showing the sniper was a distance off with the sound getting lost in the noises of the city.  
  
Falkirk had to raise his voice slightly to compensate for the noise of the traffic that was no longer blocked by the glass. “We have learned to shoot the unseen, Mr Soprano.” Falkirk explained as Soprano tried to figure out how the sniper was able to target the chair leg.  
  
“You can aim through coloured glass?” Soprano asked when his heart rate slowed down enough.  
  
 “Glass, walls, buildings, whatever. I once put a bullet through four reinforced walls and into someone's stomach,” Falkirk said, giving a pleasant smile to convey he would not hesitate to do so again if provoked.  
  
“Okay I believe you,” Soprano said looking over the damage.  
  
“I have never met an Alpha that didn't need a demonstration,” Falkirk returned pleasantly and walked out, dominance firmly established and Soprano aware he again existed by the grace of M. As long as he kept to the established relationship Soprano would have a friend in MI6.  
  
\--  
  
They pulled up at the slightly rundown two story house with peeling, yellow painted walls, white window frames and porch railings. It had a door in the centre, two windows on the front of the house either side of the door and a bedroom window jutting out of the sloping roof above the door.  
  
“This is it,” Alec stated killing the engine. Falkirk climbed the few steps and rang the bell.  
  
“Thomas,” Keading said with joy at his appearance.  
  
“Hello,” Falkirk returned simply. Keading stepping aside to let him in. As Falkirk passed, Keading ducked his head and gave a soft, ‘Hi’ to Selene as she entered.  
  
When Alec made to enter, Keading ducked his head again and this time bared his neck. Unlike with Selene where the gesture was a little embarrassed, with Alec it was submissive and a little frightened. Falkirk put it down to Alec being a strange Alpha.  
       
Following the noise of protests, Falkirk passed an open archway into the living room with an adjoining kitchen at the back. Luke, a delicate Omega house-mate of Keading was sitting at a small round table, waving a spoon about trying to get the young Alpha to eat some orange mush. Cody's mouth was firmly shut with his head as far from the offending spoon as possible, trying to escape the high chair as well. Cody continued to whine and make little groaning growls at being forced to eat the boiled carrots.  
  
“Hi,” Luke said a little more stiffly, never having fully trusted Falkirk. His eyes snapped to Alec and he dropped into a submissive posture, just like Keading.  
  
Falkirk looked to Alec not understanding their reaction. Alec gave a shrug in response, “I'll wait outside,” he said heading for the door.  
  
“It's okay, we trust Thomas and Selene,” Keading said quietly. “It's just...” he continued hesitantly stroking his own cheek. Alec mirrored the movement, instantly reminded of the three old and faded scratch marks.  
  
“It was probably him in a temper,” Selene tried to cover, indicating Falkirk.  
  
“No!” Falkirk responded, affronted. Finally understanding that Keading and Luke thought Alec was a danger and an Omega had marked him by scratching his face. To alleviate the other Omega's concerns, Falkirk proudly informed, “Alec got those defending me from a posturing Alpha.”  
  
“The scary lady said your mate had died?” Luke asked, dropping the submissive pose and openly giving Alec the once over. A mate, usually the only one who would defend an omega from a posturing Alpha.  
  
Falkirk shook his head, “He wasn't killed but that's not him anyway.”  
  
With a good reason given for the warning marks, Luke and Keading relaxed around the strange Alpha, going so far as to politely demand how Alec came by his scratches defending Falkirk. As they sat around the kitchen table Keading released Cody from his high chair. Falkirk watched his little brother run off, marvelling that what seemed to be a baby one moment was now somewhere between a toddler and a small boy.  
  
“It never ceases to amaze me how blood thirsty Omegas can be,” Selene observed as Keading and Luke listened in rapt attention to how Alec fought the then 001 for approaching Falkirk without consent. When Alec finished describing every punch, kick and scratch, “I think I'm glad I didn't know you back then,” Selene whispered to Falkirk.  
  
“You would have loved him. He was small, cute and frightened of the world. He almost cried because some ugly rat died to make his favourite blanket,” Alec teased.  
  
“It's yours and James' bad influence,” Falkirk shot back absently. He had only been paying partial attention to the story, far more interested in watching his little brother running around, climbing over couches and under tables. The boy had a similar appearance to his Papa. Soft, straight and raven black hair with soft brown eyes like a rich chocolate, not quite black and the slightly deeper skin tone of the possible Hispanic ancestry Falkirk suspected.  
  
“Your mate?” Keading prompted. Selene and Alec exchanged concerned glances.  
  
Breaking his observation of Cody to look at Keading, Falkirk marshalled his thoughts. “James was injured abroad, declared missing presumed dead. He was pulled from a river and taken to a backwards village miles away. It took months for him to get well enough and make contact”  
  
“Months?” Luke said, confused. Unless an Omega was present at the point of death a bond could take up to a year to actually reach the point of breaking.  
  
“There was interference to prevent the pain of lingering separation,” Falkirk said, voice still hollow from Daniel and Alec's actions.  
  
“It was a...” Selene started, before a kick from Alec stopped her but both could see it was too late.  
  
“We let you vent on us,” Alec said.  
  
“My part was omitted so I could keep you safe,” Selene added. Having witnessed the harsh words and recrimination that Alec and Daniel endured Selene prepared for the same.  
  
Knowing a brewing argument, Luke and Keading subtly moved from the kitchen table. Keading scooped up Cody on the way past, “We are not going to argue,” Falkirk informed the pair of retreating Omegas.  
  
Looking back to the tense Alec and Selene, “I disagree with your decision but I understand it and I forgive you.” He’d said this to Daniel but it was time Alec and now Selene heard as well.  
  
When it came time to leave, Keading pulled Falkirk back. “I know it's none of my business,” he said hesitantly, “But I would kill for one decent Alpha to look out for me. You have one, two, three,” He continued, counting off Selene, Alec and the mate he now knew was called James, wondering if it was the same James he met before. “Not to mention the scary lady and all those others.”  
  
Falkirk could see the sadness and desire for a pack and mate in the Omega in front of him. Leaning in Falkirk nuzzled Keading, “I know they meant well it's just, it hurt...” Falkirk trailed off. The entire time had been a chaotic mash of emotions.  
  
When Keading started to reciprocate the nuzzle, Falkirk added, “It is your business, you are part of the family and pack even if you're thousands of miles away.”  
  
Feeling the slight lift and drop of Keading's shoulders Falkirk pulled back. He could see the doubt on the other Omegas face, “Give the word and you can be in London in a few days. I should warn you we are rather dysfunctional,” Falkirk insisted.  
  
“This is our home,” Keading declared, dropping his gaze submissively. Scared that Falkirk would persist or withdraw his support.  
  
Brushing his chin, Falkirk tilted Keading's head up, “Just know we're there for you, when you need us and when you don't, a chat or just a visit, you are pack and family,” Falkirk responded softly with a smile.  
  
\--  
  
Returning to O, Falkirk was shown to the back office where he waited for his final task before leaving New York. Evens entered the office not long after. The brunette Beta now had a severe short back and sides with a high squared off central section and wore the tight, white riding trousers and black leather bomber jacket of Cassandra De Vries' personal guard.  
  
“All going well?” Falkirk asked as Evens took a seat across from him. The first thing Falkirk noticed was that the woman's easy going attitude had hardened under the prolonged strain of a deep cover assignment.  
  
“As well as can be expected. I'm still not privy to the elite meetings. I know she meets with Director Easton regularly. The meetings with Mr Blond are not so regular. When it is the three of them, none of the guards are permitted to attend.” Evans informed.  
  
“What about general activity?” Falkirk casually demanded.  
  
“Bribery, corruption, industrial espionage, nothing unexpected for a multi-national arms and technology company.” Evens answered.  
  
“Keep it up and if you can, push to get closer to De Vries' inner circle,” Falkirk ordered.  
  
”Will do Q,” Evens returned with a joking salute.  
  
“It's M now and you may as well know, you and Maloney are the last of your intake left,” Falkirk informed.  
  
“Eve?” Evans asked concerned.  
  
“She couldn't get over her army training, ‘Dishonourably Discharged’,” Falkirk informed stiffly.  
  
“Maloney?” Evens asked next, concerns for her peers reawakening her past.  
  
“Like you he is doing his duty and performing exemplary. He is in line for Double O status,” Falkirk said with a proud edge to his voice.  
  
“Good for him,” Evens said, wistfully looking into the distance.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I note on writing this. I'm not really into the Mafia shows and films and only stole Tony Soprano(as a known criminal), the characterisations is probably way off. If I hadn't already established him as an MI6 contact I would have used David Zayas' Sal Maroni from Gotham as I am more familiar with the character but prefer James Gandolfini as an actor.


	4. In the line of duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falkirk looses his first Double O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks to all readers, commenting and those who left kudos.

A throwback of the hierarchy of the British establishment was, at a certain level, that alcohol in a persons’ office no longer became frowned upon but expected. With the number of visitors expecting a drink whenever they pitched up increased, Falkirk decided it was time to have a stock of something.  
  
Despite James and Daniel's best efforts Falkirk had never developed a taste for whiskey, although he could now drink the stuff without gagging.  
  
Daniel warned brandy could come off as an alcoholic’s drink, Falkirk arguing that with the amount people drank, how could they tell the difference. Much to Selene and Alec's disappointment vodka was also considered inappropriate, as an even more overt sign of alcoholism. Falkirk's preferred green widows were not appropriate as they had to be mixed and could not just be poured from a bottle.  
  
Tanner advised sherry would be acceptable, until Falkirk tasted a selection and dismissed it. Port, Falkirk quite liked but when the wine merchant said the better ones would go off in about a day, he had to rule this out as well.  
  
Gin was ruled out too, for the same reason as the Green Widows, it needed tonic or other mixers to make it drinkable. Unless someone made the stupid jokes about Martinis (mixing the drink 'while looking at an unopened bottle of vermouth' or 'waving the glass in the general direction of Italy'). According to James, it wasn't a true Martini unless it tasted like lighter-fuel and for that you needed to mix it with vermouth and in James' case, vodka rather than gin.  
  
Opening the hamper Falkirk extracted the bottles of Wilde Turkey, not the best but Falkirk's preferred of the brands. Another legacy of M, bourbon being the only spirit Falkirk had become accustomed to.  
  
The decanter on the unit that ran behind Falkirk's desk had appeared on the day of James' return. A bell shaped decanter with the only decoration on the plain glass being a laser etched scrabble tile of an 'M’. It was the most overt sign his mate was accepting him but James was an Alpha, his Alpha and Falkirk thought there could be problems mounting. Even before he was officially instated as M there had been a few things, like picking up and reading files and putting his feet up on Falkirk's desk. Falkirk just wasn't sure if it was the typical arrogance of a Double O or of it was the typical Alpha thing of pushing to find a weakness.  
  
Pouring one of the bottles into a decanter, a tapping made Falkirk look up. “Nice holiday?” Mallory said coming into Falkirk's office.  
  
“I do not take holidays,” Falkirk shot back, not surprised Mallory knew he had been out of the country.  
  
“I can’t discuss specifics of active operations,” Falkirk stated and held up the now filled decanter, offering a drink.  
  
“Please,” Mallory said nodding.  
  
Filling two glasses Falkirk handed one to Mallory and indicated he should take a seat. For the first time Falkirk took note of the two parallel lines along Mallory's lower lip and chin.  
  
“You were the first Omega not to notice,” Mallory said noticing what the Omega was looking at and caressing the scratch marks.  
  
“My apologies. I recently had a lesson on warning marks,” Falkirk stated neutrally. For some reason, now he noticed them they did give him a slightly unsettled feeling.  
  
“Darren objected to being locked in a room with a strange Alpha in the run up to his heat,” Mallory informed. Falkirk knew the summery of the official record, Mallory glossing over a lot of the details of his forced bonding to the IRA informers son. As Mallory spoke, Falkirk could see Tanner running out of his office towards Falkirk's. “Excuse me,” Falkirk said, getting up to go meet Tanner.  
  
The Executive branch was quieting down, the day turning to night. Only the skeleton night shift remained for emergency situations. “The Americans have bombed a compound Double O Five was investigating,” Tanner informed.  
  
Going to the tactical suite Falkirk could hear Q Branch, Intelligence and Surveillance all stating facts without anyone taking charge. “Bugger,” Falkirk whispered to himself. He should have just appointed Mrs Jones or Tanner as a Deputy Director instead of tendering the position to allow Daniel back into the building.  
  
A random voice from a speaker announced, “USS Preble confirmed two missile launches. Thirty two minutes to second impact.”  
  
“Get Double O Five out of there,” Falkirk ordered. “Get U.S. Naval Command on the line.”  
  
Falkirk watched the clock tick down, the missiles approaching the target. The communication from Hunter had stopped. Part of the building collapsed from the first strike. The satellite image showed people moving but they were little more than dots, whether Hunter was one of them Falkirk couldn't tell.  
  
An annoyed American voice grumbled as it sounded from the speaker. “Painter, this had better be important”  
  
“USS Preble, call off the strike NOW!” Falkirk ordered.  
  
“Now listen here, son.”  
  
“GET OFF YOUR FAT ARSE NOW!” Falkirk bellowed into the microphone.  
  
“Move it!” Falkirk all but begged, not hearing the man do anything.  
  
On the satellite image the missiles passed a marker line. “I do...” Falkirk disconnected the call, cutting off the admiral. The missile passed the point of no return.  
  
Tanner, Falkirk and Mallory watched along with the personnel in Q branch, Intelligence and Surveillance as the missiles impacted the compound. An invisible wave flattening grass, overturned cars and sending survivors to the ground, followed by the all consuming bright orange fire.  
  
“Get me the American acknowledgement of our mission. Then get the ambassador in here,” Falkirk ordered walking out of the tactical suite. Returning to his office Falkirk picked up his glass, hurling it across the room to shatter against the wall.  
  
“It is a hazard of the job,” Mallory said softly, coming into the office. “The suicidal protectiveness of an Omega is legendary, don't do anything that would be...”  
  
“If you're staying you will remain silent,” Falkirk stated, interrupting Mallory. Sitting down he resigned himself to waiting for the Ambassador and the relevant liaisons between MI6 and America to arrive.  
  
Tanner knocked and entered, placing the communications between MI6 and America on Falkirk's desk. “The Ambassador is at an official dinner,” Tanner said hesitantly. A vicious scraping sounded, Falkirk's nails gouging three lines on the surface of his desk, followed by the rhythmic drumming of his fingers.  
  
“Very well,” Falkirk stated calmly, leaning back contemplating his next move. When Mallory drew breath Falkirk headed him off, “It would appear nothing will be resolved tonight.”  
  
Mallory hesitated, not believing Falkirk's calm attitude but unable to contradict it. With a final warning not to act in haste and after giving his condolences for the loss of an Operative, Mallory excused himself.  
  
Packing up slowly, Falkirk flicked off the lights heading for the exit. Selene like his guardian angel appeared at his side just as Falkirk reached the door of the Executive branch.  
  
Pressing the button for the lift, Tanner came rushing out of E Branch pulling on his coat and stuffing papers into a brief case. “The PM has called a meeting with the Ambassador and yourself,” Tanner said running up to them.  
  
Walking into number 10 Downing Street Falkirk was shown into the cabinet room where the tall lean man with white, thin hair was glaring at a smaller, rounder, red haired, Alpha male. Urquhart, the Foreign Secretary and Mallory sat one side of the large oval table and the American Ambassador sat across from the intimidating Prime Minister, trying not to squirm.  
  
Standing with the others following suite, Urquhart pulled the chair beside him out for Falkirk. “M, I’m sorry we have to meet again under such circumstances and my sympathies for MI6's loss of a valued Operative,” Urquhart stated formally.  
  
“Yes, America...” the Ambassador still dressed in white tie wilted under the increasingly hostile glare of the Prime Minister.  
  
“I shall get to the point,” Urquhart said voice cold and deadly as he  addressed the Ambassador. “A situation arose and you dismissed it showing a great deal of disrespect to this country, its service men and M himself,” Urquhart held up a hand to forestall the Ambassador's objections. “I have already spoken with President Bartlett. You are to be recalled immediately.” Urquhart smiled cruelly at the humiliation to the diplomat's career.  
  
Falkirk knew that the Prime Minister was trying to ingratiate himself. Taking a minor cause in the grand scheme but close to Falkirk and reacting beyond what was necessary.  
  
When the Ambassador was escorted out to be taken to the airport, the PM dismissed Mallory and the Foreign Secretary. “You may think this was a ploy, but I understand the need to present a strong image to our enemies and an even stronger one to our friends,” Urquhart said looking to Falkirk.  
  
“The thought had crossed my mind. It wasn't the Ambassador, there was time to save Double O Five...” Falkirk said, shaking his head he would not get into a game of what if. Hunter's death meant he was dead and there was nothing Falkirk could do to change that, all he could do was learn, accept and mourn.  
  
Arching a single brow, “If someone else is at fault, I'm sure I could arrange something,” Urquhart drawled.  
  
“I can fight my own battles,” Falkirk returned, unwilling to be indebted to the man or worse friends. For all that others seemed to fear the Prime Minister, apart from being an Alpha, Falkirk didn't. Even after what Urquhart did with the Ambassador, Falkirk had planned to humiliate the diplomat himself along with Admiral Painter. No one was innocent, as long as he looked closely enough Falkirk was sure he would find something and it would have been enough to bring them down.  
  
As Falkirk's car pulled out of Downing Street his phone started ringing. Checking the caller ID, 'Wade, J' appeared on the screen. Upon answering, it was defiantly not Jack on the phone. Falkirk watched as the night time lights of London passed the window in a blur, “This is Admiral Greer,” came the deep resonating voice of Falkirk's counterpart at the CIA.  
  
“M” Falkirk responded.  
  
“We wish to apologise for what happened today. Admiral Painter has been removed from his position. We are grieved at the loss of Jonathan Hunter, a good man that in his time worked and assisted America and our Black ops... ” Greer stated formally and continued the diplomatic dance to defuse the situation.  
  
Giving the required answer for a show of humility, then finishing, “In future I expect you to follow protocol,” Falkirk answered. Instead he truly wished to rant and rave, promising fire and brimstone, in a speech that would do Jim Moriarty proud.  
  
Hanging up Falkirk was at a loss. Usually retribution took personal time and effort. Never before did things just sort of slip into place and so as the wheel turned, Olivia Mansfield was no longer the latest name on the Memorial Wall. Falkirk paid his respects to the inscribed name, there was no body to recover. Writing the obituary and informing Hunter's uncle of his death (who only asked about inheritance and didn't know the Double O's first name).  
  
\--  
  
Files, dossiers of the highest ranking Operatives below the Double Os. Falkirk poured over them, he only knew one and a voice said to just give it to him. A click sounded, “Double Oh Seven,” Falkirk greeted.  
  
“I have a short assassination mission ready,” Falkirk said handing over a folder.  
  
“Trying to get rid of me?” James challenged with a dirty smile and bedroom eyes. His allotted down time not yet up.  
  
“No excuses for ditching the family Christmas,” Falkirk shot back with a slight shudder.  
  
“You will pay for this,” James growled pouring himself a bourbon and taking a seat. Propping his feet up on Falkirk's desk he started reading the mission brief. “An operative could deal with this.”  
  
“The only interesting Double O level mission for one of them to pop their cherry on,” Falkirk said indicating the three folders in front of him.  
  
“M used to only give Double O status to those she had personally assessed,” James observed, recognising only one name.  
  
“But Addison has seniority” Falkirk argued.  
  
“Then give it to him,” James provoked.  
  
“Big bloody help James,” Falkirk shot back. Playing fair he assigned the mission to Addison from Station S.  
  
“Still no secretary?” James observed, the desk outside Falkirk's office still empty.  
  
“No. I did think about Annie but Daniel needs her more,” Falkirk said.  
  
“A Co Deputy Director,” James prompted.  
  
“I've had three applications. Mrs Jones, Urquhart's toady and Mycroft's toady,” Falkirk said going to pour himself a drink.  
  
“Then appoint someone you trust.” James said absently moving onto reading over the confidential documents on Graham Addison.  
  
As Falkirk thought about James' behaviour the idea of actually confronting him caused a knot to grow in his stomach. Other Alphas he could deal with but his own was another story. James' eyes flicked to him and the Alpha's nose twitched, Falkirk held his Alpha's gaze with a little difficulty. He couldn't even dismiss him like a Commanding Officer. “Don't you have things to do?” Falkirk said and was grateful when James took the hint and returned to the Double O Branch.  
  
\--  
  
A knock sounded and a black man appeared with short wiry hair and calm eyes despite his post mission haggard state. Helmsley almost collapsed into a chair, dropping a folder onto Falkirk's desk as he did so.  
  
Before Falkirk even read over the report, “Shouldn't you be in the infirmary?” Falkirk asked, getting the I can walk, I'm fine speech he had heard from James, Alec and Selene dozens of times each. He’d even heard it when he expressed his concern as Q. Now he heard it from every returning Double O.  
  
Following procedure Falkirk took Helmsley though his mission. However, Helmsley was at the stage where unless there was a problem identified, the meeting was just a formality. The likelihood of being compromised, going rogue or giving into the red-mist less likely than alcoholism, drug abuse or some other self medicating coping mechanism.  
  
Closing the mission, Falkirk looked to the Alpha across from him and sat back. “You're getting close to mandatory retirement,” Falkirk observed.  
  
“I am fit for duty, M” Helmsley said with growling undertone, the first time he had growled at Falkirk.  
  
Realising the insensitive nature of his statement just after a mission Falkirk stopped himself from ducking his head and baring his neck, “I apologise, I didn't mean to insinuate anything.”  
  
Knowing he had overreacted, “What do you want to know?” Helmsley asked, his voice dropping to its normal soft, articulate tone with an added edge of weariness.  
  
“I have been having trouble finding someone to replace myself as Co Deputy Director. Q and I can’t be in the building together until I choose someone and it’s impacting on operations. Would you be open to the idea of being Deputy Director?”  
  
“I would have to give up being a Double O,” Helmsley said. Falkirk wasn't sure if it was a question or not but gave a nod anyway.  
  
Helmsley lifted his hastily bandaged wrist, looking it over, “Can I think about it?”  
  
“Take your time,” Falkirk responded pleasantly before making his voice hard, “Now get to the Infirmary Double O Nine.”  
  
“Yes mother,” Helmsley shot back pulling himself to his feet and shuffling out. Not trusting an Operative, even one as level headed as Helmsley, Falkirk called security to make sure he went to medical.  
  
\--  
  
“Did you have to run to the PM?” Falkirk admonished when Mallory showed up a week after Hunter's death.  
  
“I didn't do it for you. Urquhart has been looking to build bridges with you, I gave him his opportunity,” Mallory shot back unrepentant. Automatically Falkirk supplied his guest with a drink.  
  
“I need every advantage just to keep my head above water with Urquhart,” Mallory continued accepting the drink.  
  
A sudden change in the Alpha's scent alerted Falkirk to a conflict within Mallory. Shaking his head Mallory moved on to the general topics of MI6's actions around the world, dropping whatever had caused the change in his scent.  
  
When a movement caught Falkirk's attention, Maloney was walking away from his office. Darting to his feet Falkirk moved to the door, calling the Operative back, “You can wait” Falkirk offered suspecting why he was there.  
  
Finishing up with Mallory, Falkirk called in the only Omega field Operative in any of the services. Unlike guests, Operatives were never offered a drink. Only the more assertive or arrogant of the Double Os helped themselves and even then, only the ones Falkirk liked or couldn't stop.  
  
“Why didn't I get Double O Five?” Maloney demanded. Falkirk could see the carefully concealed wince at the petulant sound the other Omega heard in his own voice.  
  
Expecting the confrontation Falkirk looked carefully to the blond Omega, “Addison has seniority,” Falkirk stated evenly. As he expected Maloney argued Addison had seniority but he had experience.  
  
“No. Your experience is focused on Europe while Addison's is Oceania,” Falkirk said.  
  
“What happens in Australia?” Maloney shot back, tone verging on the sarcastic.  
  
“For starters Australia is the biggest territory in Oceania but not the only territory. I can however, arrange for you to find out,” Falkirk said, tone going hard at the insubordination.  
  
Knowing he had pushed it, “No, M,” Maloney said dropping his head.  
  
“I have nothing but respect for you ever since I read your file and Helmsley marched you all into Q branch,” Falkirk said with Maloney giving a weak half smile at the memory.  
  
“Out of the initial intake of however many, only you and Evans have survived. Considering the following intake didn't produce anyone,” Falkirk said shaking his head to organise his thought back on track, “You are now the most senior field Operative below the Double Os. Seventy Eight percent of Double Os die in the field. You don't need to be too eager, you are up next,” Falkirk said, ending in a hollow voice, uncomfortable talking about the probable death of his friends and family.  
  
“Sorry,” Maloney said softly before looking back up, “Evans?” he asked hesitantly before rushing on, ”I know you can't discuss...”  
  
“Stop before you hyperventilate. She is in deep cover and I personally saw her three weeks ago. You should have seen her, short back and sides three inches high, right out of a Grace Jones photo shoot,” Falkirk rushed, unprepared for is instinctual reaction to gossip.  
  
Giving a snort at his boss' sudden laps in decorum, Maloney hid his smile behind his hand. “Don't worry M, it happens to me too. I tend to pop when I get a good poker hand,” Maloney responded referring to a small bouncy movement that occurs when Omegas get excited.  
  
“Oh bugger off,” Falkirk said waving off the other Omega.  
  
“Try learning to pop when you have a bad hand,” Falkirk shouted after Maloney as he exited his office. Only Alec had developed an immunity to the bluff, even James the one who spotted it, and others, Alphas in particular kept getting taken in by it.  
  



	5. Just a little respect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> As always thanks to all the readers

Addison arrived in London a few weeks after Falkirk had issued his mission. Falkirk's fist time meeting the man was memorable for its lack of memorability. Addison, a typical public school Alpha, was respectful and courteous to his superior. He had naturally sandy, brownish blond hair with darker roots and lighter ends, blue eyes and a light sprinkling of freckles over his nose and cheeks. Dressed in a nice suit, not custom but good quality, with what would be considered an Omega purple tie and thin v-neck jumper underneath the dark blue jacket.  
  
Going through the reports of Addison's debriefing, the latest Double O justified his actions. Falkirk didn’t get any impression of subterfuge or deception from the man so he closed, what for a Double O would be a simple assassination mission. Ordering, “Dismissed, Double O Five.”  
  
Addison responded with a slight Australian tinge to his public school English accent and gave a respectful nod, “M.”  
  
Looking over the mission report, 005 had accomplished his mission without flare or fuss. It looked like the Double O was on his best behaviour for his first operation under the direct command of M. “He will either be excellent or a disaster,” Falkirk said to himself.  
  
“He's a good man,” Helmsley responded from the doorway making Falkirk jump.  
  
“Secretary is next. Definitely next!” Falkirk said. These visitors knocking and if his door wasn't fully closed, just walking in had become an issue. People were starting to get the impression of an open door policy. Only a few had the right to come in without his leave to do so.  
  
“If you still want me, I'll do it,” Helmsley said.  
  
“I'll get Tanner to draw up the paper work,” Falkirk said with a pleased smile extending his hand to Helmsley. “Congratulations Deputy Director.”  
  
Returning home to the empty flat, Falkirk opened a tin and poured the soup into a bowl. Taking the microwave warmed soup he sat in front of the TV watching an old movie. As Falkirk prepared for bed he slipped into his favourite paisley patterned pyjamas, which he never got to wear when his Alpha was around. Climbing into bed the omega let the lingering scent of his Alpha relax him and pull him into sleep. His final thoughts about James, he should have been back by now. The mission was even simpler than Addison's but his Alpha had dropped out of communications, the target still alive and kicking. Falkirk's instincts told him there was nothing to be worried about, which left a sinking feeling that, as an Alpha and Double O James needed to be reined in for his own good and that of MI6.  
  
Rudely awoken by the ringing of his phone, buzzing of the bell and banging on the flat's door, Falkirk shot straight up gun in hand. Not letting go of the gun, Falkirk picked up his phone, “Bombing central London, Emergency meeting Downing Street!” Tanner informed.  
  
With Tanner on the phone, the hammering on the door was as he expected, Selene. Pulling it open Falkirk rushed to get dressed. Getting into the car Falkirk was listening to Tanner back at MI6 relaying an overview of the situation. Pulling out a tablet Falkirk followed the briefing as Tanner went over the initial findings.  
  
Cabinet Office Briefing Room (COBRA), the official meeting for a crisis, chaired by the Prime Minister. The room held a large rectangle table with spotlights directed to the surface and screens took up the wall at the foot of the table. Falkirk walked into the darkened room and took the place for the MI6 representative. Urquhart was already in full swing tearing strips off Smiley and the Commander of the Met. With the bombing being initially put down to a dissident group of the IRA it was considered an internal matter outside of MI6's jurisdiction. So Smiley as Control of MI5 was getting it along with Miller, a person Falkirk kept forgetting to force out of his position. Ever since Commissioner Miller and Siger Holmes worked together to raid his flat on an illegal search and seizure, Falkirk had never liked the smarmy Irishman.  
  
A line in Urquhart's harsh and scathing monologue pulled Falkirk's attention, “...This is a personal attack against me and this government...”  
  
Checking over the details before leaning over to Mallory, “There is no mention of a specific target?”  
  
“A car bomb, Patrick Woolton was killed,” Mallory informed giving off a scent of agitation that Falkirk wasn't sure was purely down to dissolution of the peace process.  
  
Falkirk looked around the room, taking in a deep inhale. His mind sorting and separating the cacophony of identifying scents and the scents giving an indication to an emotional state all coming together to make the ques. The Alphas were the easiest for Falkirk to judge. Urquhart was absolutely calm, only identifying, but Falkirk had a suspicion about the man which would account for his lack of outward emotion. Miller was terrified, Smiley was holding up better giving an agitation and a little anger. Falkirk couldn't help the impression that something was playing out that he couldn't see. Mallory, Smiley along with the Army and Navy representatives all seemed to be the ones to know something.  
  
When the meeting ended Mallory exited the room quickly. Following the group out Falkirk noticed Mallory pull Smiley to the side. He couldn't intrude without looking obvious and the two Alphas would be able to scent him if he got too close so Falkirk was forced to move on.  
  
Returning to MI6 Falkirk headed to Q branch, as expected there was no one important present. Giving pleasant greetings to the few of the personnel he knew, Falkirk headed back to the Executive branch.  
  
Catching Tanner as he left to get a few more hours sleep before their day officially started, Falkirk asked for the details of whoever had the greatest experience of the IRA. When Tanner was about to go complete the task immediately, Falkirk insisted, “Have it on my desk tomorrow... Later today I mean.”  
  
\--  
  
He read over the file of Christopher 'Kip' Dallas one of several Tanner had supplied in response to Falkirk's request. Kip had front line experience in dealing with the IRA but little in the way of their methodology. He then picked a file of the exact opposite, a bean counter from Analysis who could recite the hierarchy of the IRA from 1980 but wouldn't know an IRA bomb from a gas explosion.  
  
Tanner burst in, “We have a lead on The Merovingian,” Tanner informed placing a still from a security camera on Falkirk's desk. “Arrived by private plane at Beauvais Airport an hour ago.”  
  
The reclusive criminal was a master, he had been hiding for years and sightings were all unconfirmed or false. Addison and Helmsley were the only Double Os close enough. Falkirk ordered Helmsley as the more experienced to go after the crime lord who had been helping any passing criminal or terrorist who could afford his services.  
  
\--  
  
At the back of E Branch there was a small theatre like tactical room where M could observe 'in progress' operations. The rear wall had a row of workstations and the wall above displayed images being projected onto it.  
  
The various CCTV feeds of the airport were displayed on the wall. Falkirk sat in the front middle of the rows of seats used by observers to watch and from where M would command. Falkirk watched the dark haired Beta known as The Merovingian as he led a small group across the tarmac. Just before he entered his rather large private jet, he turned to the closest camera and gave a sweeping bow, all the feeds died and all communications went silent. The room sprang into action, Falkirk had to remind himself he was in command and he needed to let the others do their job and not do it himself, no matter how much he wanted to.  
  
“Jamming at source,” Peter's voice cut through the sudden rush of noise.  
  
“The plane is taking off,” a technician said, relaying the commentary of a spotter at the airport. “There was no sign of a struggle, or Double O Nine.”  
  
“French Radar has lost the plane,” Tanner informed hanging up the phone he had been getting information through. The noise slowly tapered off in the tactical room. Information drying up.  
  
Making his way to Q branch, Falkirk entered Cyber Division brushing off Hal and Peter who had followed him down. He went into one of the Labs at the back of the room and flicked the switch, turning the glass opaque and locking the door. Adding his personal laptop to the ever present workstations Falkirk got to work utilising back doors into the French Military Systems he had set up years before.  
  
Hacking the French didn't have the outcome Falkirk desired. They were telling the truth, The Merovingian's plane had no radar image. There was no radar record of The Merovingian's plane entering or leaving French air space.  
  
A tapping sounded on the white glass, pulling Falkirk out of his thoughts. Opening the door Tanner stood with Peter, “Someone interfered with the airport's power back ups, then cut the mains, the airport went completely dark for about ten minutes,” Tanner updated.  
  
“A private jet with stealth system should be easy enough to find,” Falkirk informed, a hollow pit forming in his stomach.  
  
\--  
  
Mallory was sitting in Falkirk's office for one of his regular visits. After an opening question on the IRA bombing and a few gentle prods, Mallory was just as tight lipped as Smiley on the subject. Just as Mallory was leaving, James casually sauntered into Executive Branch. A knot grew in Falkirk's stomach, it was time to confront his Alpha, he had gone too far. James and Mallory exchanged pleasant hostilities as they passed each other. Relief flooded Falkirk seeing Mallory disappear out of E Branch, he didn't want him here for this.  
  
James entered his office with a wide gaited swagger going straight over to the drinks tray and pouring himself a glass. James gave a challenging look to Falkirk, just as he’d done with the M before, daring to be stopped.  
  
“How the hell do you turn a few day long assignment into a three week catastrophe?” Falkirk admonished, screwing up his conflicting emotions to do so. The desire to submit to his Alpha at war with the command he had to take.  
  
“Didn't you get the report?” James dismissed taking the guest chair.  
  
“It went to hell!” Falkirk quoted the only words on the single A4 page. Psych, medical, the debriefing team and the investigations teams all recommended James' license be pulled until they could figure out what he had been up to.  
  
“It did,” James argued with a teasing smile that made Falkirk’s stomach knot further.  
  
James' subtle digs and disrespect was more than he was willing to accept as M. He could get James to tow the line but the thought of really chastising him became a physical pain to the Omega. If James' attitude spread to the other Alphas, Operatives and Double Os, MI6 would become a disaster so it left one other option.  
  
“Well here is my response,” Falkirk said handing over a draft letter to the Prime Minister.  
  
James read over the resignation letter, fury starting to bubble up at his Omega and the games he was playing. Growling, “You cannot do this, I won't let you,”  
  
“If you were anyone else I would pull your licence for your conduct,” Falkirk said holding up James' report. “I will argue and fight with you but above all else I am your Omega. I can't command you if I don't have your support and...” Falkirk trailed off bowing his head.  
  
“Stop!” James growled surging to his feet making Falkirk flinch. “Bullshit! You're bluffing,” James said looming over Falkirk. With his proximity James detected the change in Falkirk's scent, something he had not smelt in a long time, fear of him, dejection and submission!  
  
“Is everything alright, M,” a blond guard said from the doorway. James jumped back as if scolded, making Falkirk whimper.  
  
“I've called Daniel and Alec,” Selene growled coming up behind the guard. Her dark blue eyes seeming to gleam in the waning evening light, focused solely on James Bond with a hint of a predatory edge common to Double Os even an ex Double O.  
  
James knew he had screwed up. It was an Alpha's instinct to push, to find weaknesses. He had just about managed to dare to help himself in the presence of Falkirk's predecessor. He however, would never dare to prop his feet on her desk and he certainly wouldn't read over any files on her desk let alone the ones he shouldn't have access to.  
  
Olivia Mansfield would have reprimanded him, demoted him and shot him in that order for those infractions. Here James was showing his own mate more disrespect than a bunch of strangers and he was getting away with it because his Omega would never bring himself to truly act against his Alpha.  
  
“I believe a Dishonourable Discharge is the accepted punishment,” James muttered walking out to the communal office to await the arrival of the Deputy Director. The blond guard followed James as Selene entered Falkirk's office.  
  
When Daniel arrived with Alec in tow, the bigger Alpha bypassed James not even sparing him a glance. Alec gave James a glare but followed Daniel into Falkirk's office.  
  
Watching the interaction James saw Falkirk hand Daniel the resignation letter and with a sense of relief James watched as it was shredded. James knew the next was his report and with a sense of dread Daniel placed it carefully to the side. With a few more nods and shakes of the head from Falkirk Selene and Alec guided the Omega to the door. With as much poise and dignity as possible Falkirk marched passed the remaining personnel of the Executive Branch, broadcasting fear and distress in his wake.  
  
Daniel's roar almost rattled the windows and made James flinch, “BOND GET IN HERE!”  
  
Walking into M's office James stood where Daniel pointed. Standing at a parade rest, hands clasped at the small of his back and back to the external window, James could see through the internal wall onto the Executive Branch.  
  
Closing the door making the room sound proof, Daniel stood opposite James with his back to the Executive Branch, “Is everyone watching?”  
  
Behind Daniel, James could see the remaining members of E Branch including Tanner, trying not to appear to be looking but James could see the subtle glances of everyone. He gave a sharp, “Yes Sir.”  
  
“At the insistence of _M_ , leniency will be shown,” Daniel said making an overt attempt to lull James into a false sense of security. Then with pure malevolent glee, “As of this moment your arse is mine. Any mission assigned to Double O Seven will be assigned through me. I will handle all briefings, debriefings as well as any disciplinary process. In order to see _M_ you will have to see psych first then report to me, this is privately as well as professionally.”  
  
“Yes Sir,” James replied mechanically.  
  
“Suspended until further notice. Report to psych and rewrite that piece of crap, fully justify every second you were away,” Daniel ordered. “Yes, Sir.”  
  
“If you breach any of the stated terms, _M_ will resign, unable to discharge the duties of his office,” Daniel warned. “And in the short time I'm acting Director, my foot up your arse will make sure you are out the door along with him.”  
  
“Yes, Sir.”  
  
“Do you have a place to stay?” Daniel said. Technically a question but actually a reminder James wasn't allowed near Falkirk until he had been cleared by psych and reported back to him.  
  
“Hotel, Sir,” James muttered.  
  
James knew Daniel was a gifted engineer, a skilled fighter who had beaten him to a pulp and had seen the videos of Daniel acting as an Operative. He had never seen him command with the cold hard force he was showing now. If he had shown a hint of ambition there was no doubt Daniel could have been M if he chose. And James felt uncomfortable under the glare of those light brown eyes, a tingle at the back of his neck making him want to squirm. The big Alpha's mouth almost invisible, pinched and hidden in the thick, short and neat beard. It all screamed James was still doing something wrong, then he noticed what he had just been thinking about, Daniel could have been M. Daniel was not M he was Q and Falkirk was M. MI6 was based on a naval structure, as Director Falkirk even had a ceremonial rank of Admiral but it was not a military structure, Sir was not an appropriate salutation. “I understand Q and I understand M should not be my direct superior.”  
  
“Dismissed, Double O Seven,” Daniel said softly, relieved James was finally getting it. Remaining still, Daniel watched James walk past him and out of the office.  
  
\--  
  
It was Daniel's house Selene and Alec took Falkirk to. When Daniel returned he found Falkirk in the basement kitchen nursing a cup of tea sitting at the breakfast bar, slight distress still emanating from the Omega.  
  
Flicking on the kettle Daniel looked to the dejected Omega. “He's an Alpha Male who you haven't put in his place,” Daniel said sympathetically, understanding both sides of the argument. Aware he himself had done something similar to James but unlike Falkirk, Daniel's partner had no qualms about bringing him up on the behaviour.  
  
“I knew what I was doing and the plan went perfectly. I needed to bring it home to James that his conduct couldn't go on and it would be better for both of us if I was not his direct Commanding Officer. You are the only person, other than Mansfield who James has accepted as more dominant, you are the logical choice to be his handler”  
  
“What a manipulative little Laddie,” Daniel purred with pride.  
  
Sliding a piece of paper over to Daniel, “It was actually this I was upset over”  
  
Daniel sobered from his relief a moment ago, “It doesn’t look good,” Daniel said reading over the Operative status document.  
  
They had not heard anything from Helmsley and they had gone through the records of most of the private aircraft manufactures that could potentially produce a stealth jet. Helmsley had vanished into whatever hidey-hole The Merovingian retreated to. Two years it took for them to get a lead on The Merovingian and it could be two more before he surfaces next.  
  
Filling in the form, changing the status from 'Missing' to 'Missing presumed dead' and signing it, Falkirk placed the document back in his brief case.  
  
Pulling out his phone Falkirk dialled a number, “Mrs Jones, You are acting _junior_ Deputy Director”  
  
Listening for a moment, “You are not privy to that information,” Falkirk stated coldly. How Mrs Jones had heard about what happened with James and E Branch already, he didn't know. Slamming the phone down shouting to the kitchen ceiling, “Fucking gossips”  
  



	6. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.

The Executive Branch was starting to look different as the year entered its final month. Overt decorations were frowned upon but subtle acts of rebellion were everywhere. Tanner's tie from a distance looked green with lightly patterned gold threads but on closer inspection was made up of gold outlined holly leaves. Mugs and ties seemed to be the favoured displays of the approaching festival. Even Falkirk himself, outwardly he was his professional self wearing a brown silk tie that toned with his seventies style suit, underneath, the end hidden under his waistcoat had Rudolph's head on it.  
  
Watching Maloney walk through the Executive Branch, Falkirk waved him in. With Double O Nine's name appearing on the memorial wall a few days before, he probably knew why he was here.  
  
Accepting the mission brief the other Omega looked hesitant for the first time since Falkirk met him. “I didn't want to get my status like this,” Maloney said knowing he would be receiving his teacher's designation.  
  
From the cabinets behind him Falkirk lifted off a sleek, black stick, about 1 ½ foot long. He grasped the end and unsheathed the sword. It was short, with a blade as black as the scabbard and a guard-less hilt.  
  
As Q Falkirk had commissioned several for Adrian Helmsley's use. In the breaking up of 009's estate Falkirk had decided to keep one of the blades in memory of the man. “Honour him. Live up to and extend upon Adrian Helmsley's example,” Falkirk ordered then with a swishing sound slid the blade back in and replace it on the cabinets behind him  
  
“Yes M,” Maloney replied. Watching his boss look sullenly at the blade that was the hallmark of Adrian Helmsley's close combat encounters.  
  
“Report to Q branch for you documentation and equipment, Dismissed,” Falkirk ordered. Maloney looked like he was about to ask something before hesitating and leaving the room.  
  
\--  
  
Mallory appeared the day before the Christmas Ball when the upper echelons of the security services would come together with their civil, political and military counterparts for something of a dignified booze up. It would be still early in the month, the ball on the first Friday in December.  
  
He handed over a document with the latest information on a bombing by the Resurgent IRA as they had become known as. Despite Falkirk's best efforts he still didn't know what Mallory found suspicious about the bombings. C was no better in their weekly meetings eventually stating, “The Resurgent IRA was MI5's jurisdiction and not that of MI6.”  
  
Returning home, James' furious scent permeated the air. Slowly Falkirk pushed the door wider onto the chaos of the ransacked flat, seeing James sat at the far end of the room, back against the balcony door. The lack of bullet holes indicated James had done the damage himself. Approaching, Falkirk passed the split dining table and splintered chairs, into the wrecked lounge area with shattered glass table and upturned armchair.  
  
James had passed a psych evaluation for the first time ever and Daniel had officially allowed his return. The Alpha had apologised for his conduct and Falkirk thought they were moving on until today.  
  
“James,” Falkirk called again, now he was closer he could scent despair and see Mansfield's dog in his Alpha's hands.  
  
Looking up, eyes pleading James opened his arms. Sitting in James' lap, the Alpha ducked under Falkirk's arm to rest his head in the crook of the Omega's neck.  
  
Wrapping his arms around James' neck Falkirk held his distressed mate close. A sudden lick accompanied James' nuzzling. A gesture usually used by an Omega to convey gratitude or sorrow to a close Alpha.  
   
“I had a visitor today,” James admitted, speaking into Falkirk's neck, “A Beta calling himself Stamper.” Falkirk stiffened at the implications of a visit from the Prime Minister's favourite attack dog.  
  
“He knew what happened in your office. He was propositioning me, trying to gain control of you,” James informed in hollow tones and tightened his grip around Falkirk at the implication he was the vulnerable link in the pack.  
  
“How do I fix it?” James asked knowing his usual brand of jumping in with both feet would backfire spectacularly.  
  
“Does Stamper know I live here?” Falkirk asked, a plan forming.  
  
“I didn't get the impression he knew I was your mate, I didn't confirm or deny anything and I was controlled until he was gone,” James responded.  
  
Falkirk started stroking James' short hair. “Invite him back, insist on Urquhart coming as well,” Falkirk said.  
  
James pushed away to look Falkirk in the eye. Any protests died on his lips and nodded, trusting Falkirk to know what he was doing.  
  
\--  
  
Falkirk stepped out of the car dressed in formal white tie. Government House was hosting the Christmas Ball. Daniel had volunteered to stay away, letting Mrs Jones attend. Falkirk had originally planned to bring James as his partner but that would now ruin his surprise for Urquhart so James was left to do as he pleased.  
  
The ornate plasterwork and tiled floors on the foyer and hallways gave way to the wooden floors and panels of the reception rooms, with chandeliers and gilding reflecting the light. Waiters moved about with glasses and snacks. The guests milled about, most of the partners stuck close together begrudgingly accepting the need for their attendance.  
  
“Ah, there you are,” Smiley called to Falkirk, looking a little out of character in his white tie, more accustomed to his rumpled suits. “Be on your guard my boy, there are more sharks in the room than you can count.”  
  
Taking a glass of champagne from a passing tray, Falkirk sipped as Smiley indicated a few of the more dangerous. Excusing himself, Smiley moved off to speak with a General in dress uniform.  
  
Moving through the crowd, Falkirk spotted a person he’d met once before. The lean handsome Alpha looked like he was made to wear white tie. Falkirk engaged the blond, a spitting image of Sherlock, in casual conversation. While talking to Peter Guillam a thatch of wiry hair caught Falkirk's attention so fast Guillam snapped his head to see what Falkirk was looking at. “Mallory's assistant,” Guillam supplied.  
  
“I am aware of who she is,” Falkirk dismissed.  
  
Indicating a delicate man, perhaps a little younger than Falkirk, Guillam leaned in to supply the information quietly, “She's here to keep Mallory's mate in line when his back is turned”  
  
The Omega in his early twenties had wild hair in natural tight curls and the strangest eyes, the exact colour was hard to tell, they could be green, blue, or even a shade of brown. Tall and slender, forced into white tie and clearly uncomfortable, even from this distance, the uncoordinated sway indicated he may have had a few too many already. Falkirk turned away from the growing scene Mallory's mate and Moneypenny were making.  
  
“So this is where you're hiding,” Admiral Roebuck, the First Sea Lord and old friend of Olivia Mansfield and her husband said coming up to the pair.  
  
In the middle of greeting the Admiral Falkirk saw a person he’d hoped to see. “Excuse Me, I have to speak with someone,” Falkirk said before he could properly speak to the Admiral.  
  
Roebuck, seeing who Falkirk was looking at, cleared his throat gruffly, “Go easy on him he's made of softer stuff.”  
  
Catching up to Mycroft, Falkirk matched his brother's casual pace. “You have blown off our last six dinners,” Falkirk stated.  
  
“I have been busy,” Mycroft dismissed. Coming to a halt, Mycroft looked to Falkirk, his eyes swept the room suspiciously as he did so.  
  
“You made your position quite clear,” Mycroft dismissed and moved off leaving his brother standing in stunned silence.  
  
He wondered what position Mycroft was taking about. The only one Falkirk could think of was the Prime Minister, but Mycroft should understand it was harder for him to directly challenge an Alpha like Urquhart and couldn't share what little advantage he had.    
   
Shaking his head Falkirk turned as a fist connected with his cheek with sudden pain, his head jerked and Falkirk crumpled to the floor. Looking up into the challenging eyes of Darren Mallory, “He's mine” the Omega hissed.  
  
Mallory seemed to appear out of nowhere scruffing his mate, the controlling grip on the back of a Darren's neck subduing the Omega as he was physically escorted out under the judgemental glares of the other guests. Selene and the Foreign Secretary helped Falkirk to his feet. “I do apologise he has never been able to control the bit...” the Foreign Secretary trailed off, avoiding the insulting term as if just realising Falkirk was an Omega as well.  
  
The Foreign Secretary escorted Falkirk to a private room. A waiter appeared with some ice wrapped in a cloth napkin. Selene inspected the red mark across Falkirk's cheek bone, pressing the ice pack against it and making him wince. “I've never been punched before, it hurts,” Falkirk mused.  
  
A knock sounded just before Mallory appeared. After Mallory apologised for his mate's conduct the Foreign Secretary asked Falkirk for a private word with Mallory.  
  
Coming out of the private conference room, Falkirk headed back to the ballroom. As he walked down the corridor, Selene a few paces behind, a scathing London accent came from the slightly open door of an office they were passing. Approaching the door, Falkirk listened to Moneypenny chastising Darren for endangering his Alpha's career, again. “...How can you be so selfish? Really can you not control...” Moneypenny was saying regardless of the distress she was causing.  
  
“Hardly in the same league as a mortal shot,” Falkirk cut into her rant, making the Alpha start and giving a vicious half smile that put Moneypenny further on edge. Falkirk held his hand up with palms forward, “I am unarmed,” he said to her. She was clearly not reassured by the gesture.  
  
“Thomas McLair,” Falkirk greeted giving his professional name and extending his hand to the other Omega. Darren huffed, crossed his arms and looked away.  
  
“You're not a child,” Moneypenny snapped at Darren.  
  
“Could we have a moment?” Falkirk asked pleasantly. When Moneypenny stood firm Selene stepped in, scruffed the Alpha and frogmarched her out, protesting all the way.  
  
“She's afraid of you,” Darren said speaking for the first time, his Irish brogue soft and curious. Falkirk too had picked up on the que indicating stress and fear from Moneypenny before Selene had frogmarched her out of the room.  
  
“I did shoot her,” Falkirk dismissed, grabbing Darren's arm and leading him out. In the corridor he led them in the opposite direction to Selene and Moneypenny. Passing the guests in the ballroom, Falkirk took them to the entrance and onto the street. “Where are we going?” Darren asked suspiciously.  
  
Shrugging, “No idea,” Falkirk said flagging down a taxi.  
  
No idea turned out to be an old cocktail bar Falkirk used to frequent before he became Q. Even amongst the professional customers of the cocktail bar the pair stood out in their white tie. “I'm not a threat to you,” Falkirk said, sipping a green widow.  
  
“I smell you sometimes on Gareth. It's faint but there and the way he speaks about you,” Darren admitted nursing his beer, “And _her_ too,” he continued with hatred in his voice leaving Falkirk in no doubt who ‘her’ was.  
  
“Do you want to know why I shot Eve?” Falkirk whispered leaning close. When Darren nodded slightly Falkirk told him the story of Eve shooting James on an order she didn't want to disobey, finishing, “She hurt my Alpha, no one hurts my Alpha and gets away with it.”  
  
Bursting out laughing, “Brilliant!” Darren admitted shaking his head.  
  
“I don't know about the Minister's emotions but I know he hasn't had sex with Eve,” Falkirk informed.  
  
“How the fuck would you know?” Darren said, not quite believing Falkirk.  
  
“I'm the head of MI6, if Gareth Mallory was fucking his secretary I would have a list of dates and places with accompanying pictures,” Falkirk argued back.  
  
Nodding in response Darren then confirmed Falkirk had a mate before leaning in to scent him. Falkirk had to argue he didn't carry his mate's scent because most Alphas would bypass him and go straight to James.  
  
“I'm sorry,” Darren said so quietly as to be barely heard. As he pulled back Falkirk noticed something, gently grasping the other Omega's left hand, Falkirk pushed up the sleeve.  
  
Before Falkirk could ask about the slightly lighter patch of skin in an outline of a star Darren answered, “ _Mother Dearest_ couldn't have her posh friends and family meeting her perfect son's bitch, painted like a whore. She waited until Gareth was away, not that it mattered he still didn't stop her when he came back, so she dragged me to session after session until the tattoo was gone.”  
  
Before Falkirk could respond both his and Darren's phone started ringing simultaneously. Darren slowly pulled his out looking to the screen, fear in the eyes that in one light looked blue and another green or hazel. Gently Falkirk pulled the device from Darren's grasp, the omega letting him unable to confront his own Alpha. 'Gareth' was displayed as the caller.  
  
Falkirk answered and listened to the angry and recriminating words of the man that had been nothing but civil to him. “That's a fine way to speak to your mate,” Falkirk stated coldly.  
  
“M! Is Darren safe?” Mallory said when he got over his initial shock. “Yes, he is perfectly safe.”  
  
Falkirk's phone stopped ringing abruptly as Selene figured out who Mallory was talking to. Falkirk listened to the concerned Alpha as he threatened him for abducting his mate. In the background of the room where Mallory was Falkirk could hear Selene responding to the threats Mallory was making to her charge.  
  
“Minister, I will protect Darren” Falkirk said cutting through the growing argument between the Alphas on the other end of the phone.  
  
“Really?” Mallory spat with contempt and suspicion.  
  
“Have you ever known me to deceive or underestimate my resolve,” Falkirk reassured, in the same tone as he would issue a threat. “Now please put Selene on.”  
  
After getting an earful and a threat of bringing in the pack, Falkirk reassured her as well. Hanging up he handed the phone back to Darren who had submissively listened to Falkirk's side of the conversation.  
  
“I'm an embarrassment to him,” Darren admitted still not able to look Falkirk in the eye since his apology.  
  
He thought about his response. From what he could remember Darren was more than Mallory was allowing him to be. Falkirk abandoned the original motivation of subtly quizzing Darren on what Mallory had been up to with Smiley and the rest. Coming to a decision, leaned in close, “We need somewhere more discreet,” Falkirk said nodding to a table where two smaller Alphas were entertaining their Omega dates.  
  
Giving Darren a few instructions Falkirk watched him approach the bar with a slight sway in his step. Getting up, Falkirk headed for the bathroom. Darren returned, stumbling he sent glasses crashing to the group's table. As everyone jumped back and stood avoiding the flying liquid, Falkirk emerged from the doorway to the bathroom, casually picked up the two suit jackets as he passed and heading for the door. Darren's boisterous Irish brogue distracted the group from Falkirk's actions.  
   
Joining him a few minutes later an excited light lit Darren's eyes, “Fuck me! Toffs aren't meant to do that sort of thing!” he said, popping with the excitement and adrenalin of the situation.  
  
“I learned from the best,” Falkirk responded handing over one of the jackets. Discarding his tails Falkirk slipped on the other jacket removing the bow tie and popped a few buttons making his appearance a little more casual.  
  
“God this smells disgusting,” Darren said pulling the neckline of the jacket to his nose.  
  
“Pheromone supplement,” Falkirk said, smelling the enhanced general Alpha scent with a chemical undertone. The good ones were custom, made by harvesting and concentrating an Alpha's own pheromones. The cheap ones were like stale sweat and air freshener mixed with hairspray.  
  
“Most Alphas don't realise we can smell the difference,” Falkirk added trying to flag down a taxi.  
  
“Fuck!” Darren hissed, grabbing Falkirk's arm and indicating the door of the cocktail bar. The two Alphas were barrelling towards them.  
  
“Run!” Falkirk hissed.  
  
He headed for the taxi rank a couple of streets away with Darren hot on his heels. The dress shoes slid on the pavement as they skidded to a halt and dived into the first waiting cab. “Go!” Falkirk snapped.  
  
Regaining their breath, Falkirk gave the name of a club to the cabbie. They used the rest of the journey to compose themselves. Falkirk could see Darren enjoying the freedom and Falkirk remembering what it was like when he first used public transport, it felt like the world had opened up to him.  
  
Giving the cabbie the fare Falkirk led them to the club's entrance and paid the entry fee after a casual warning that the club wouldn't be responsible for unaccompanied Omegas.  
  
Walking through what would be a trendy club if it wasn't so cheesy, an overly loud Alpha's voice carried through the room, the only thing louder than the music.  
  
Ordering a couple of beers, Falkirk handed one to Darren, “So why are we here?” Darren demanded barely audible over the pounding music.  
  
Falkirk nodded to the crass Alpha in a white shell suit, his East End accent the one cutting through the music. “He would be a gangster if he was smarter. Thug, drug dealer, twat and my uncle. Hasn't yet figured out the Thomas McLair born to his Omega brother is the same Thomas McLair that runs MI6” Falkirk informed. Leaving out how much of a security risk and embarrassment the man could be if he ever did figured it out.  
  
“Fuck off!” Darren responded. Eyes going from Falkirk to the Alpha in the corner, “Naw, you're pulling my leg.”  
  
“Come on drink up,” Falkirk said downing the rest of his beer. Hailing another cab a little worse for wear they walked up to a nondescript door in an alleyway. Knocking they waited, swaying in the wind. When the door cracked open Falkirk adjusted his glasses, the bouncer took one look at them growling, “No Bitches, Fuck off!”  
  
Knocking again, “Paul Burk, 32, married Alice, 1 son, started primary school in September,” Falkirk called through the door. “One drink and we'll move on.”  
  
The door was yanked open and nearly off the hinges. The Alpha growling, Falkirk and Darren gave similar inebriated smiles in response. “I won't tell anyone you’re a registered informer,” Falkirk whispered brushing past heedless of the enraged scent coming off the Alpha and dragging Darren behind him.  
  
The den was smogged with acrid opium infused smoke. Rows of people were on the floor, needles still in the arms of some of the unconscious, others inhaling from glass pipes.  Finding who he was looking for Falkirk plopped down, “I know you're on a case but if you...” Falkirk slurred pointing to the unconscious looking patron.  
  
The bundle the other side of Falkirk stirred and sat up. “You're drunk.” Sherlock observed.  
  
“Set...James...” Falkirk trailed off; looking from the person he thought was Sherlock and the one who actually was Sherlock. Flopping forward to nuzzle his brother, Falkirk ended up head butting him in the shoulder. Straightening up Falkirk levered himself up with the help of Darren and the wall.  
  
After reassuring Sherlock the two Omegas left the den. Outside where Falkirk was trying to flag down another taxi, “What is this tour about?” Darren demanded.  
  
“One more stop,” Falkirk pleaded, checking his phone before giving an address to the driver.  
  
Entering the underground car park was easier than Falkirk expected. As they approached the circled crowd, Falkirk could scent eager and aroused Omegas mixed with the scent of aggressive Alphas. He immediately spotted the round headed Johnston (001) with a new bruise spreading across his face. Falkirk and Darren edged into the crowd, pushing to the front.  
  
“That's my mate,” Falkirk informed as they watched James prepare with Alec. Alec looked like he had gone a round or two already. “If I can be M with 'The Duke' an embarrassment, Sherlock officially classed as a major security risk and James a person someone has already approached in order to control me”  
  
“You couldn't survive me” Darren interrupted dejection in his demeanour and scent.  
  
The fact Darren could see what Falkirk was up to, helped sway him in Falkirk's favour. “That is a challenge I am willing to accept. My office Monday and leave Gareth to me,” Falkirk responded adamantly. A growling roar interrupted them as a muscle bound Alpha and the only person Falkirk had seen bigger than Daniel stepped into the circle. A Beta came round and Falkirk put his remaining cash on his Alpha.  
  
They shouted encouragement, watching James pulverise the Alpha twice his size. Falkirk had to shift to hide his growing erection at his Alpha's impressive display; there was something primal about seeing how strong his Alpha was. Looming over the now kneeling Alpha James was about the give a final punch to send him to the floor. Falkirk could feel slickness at his entrance.  
  
Darren giggled shoving Falkirk, scenting his lust. At the same point James looked to him and with a final blow sent the Alpha crumbling to the ground. Growling, James marched over wrapping an arm around Falkirk's waist and lifting him slightly, “What are you doing here?”  
  
“We escaped,” Darren supplied wavering slightly with his support gone. Moving onto the suit jacket, James inspected the collar giving it a sniff.  
  
“We borrowed them,” Falkirk informed with a proud smile. Darren adding, “That means we stole them.”  
  
Spotting the Beta bookie, “Winnings?” Falkirk demanded, trying to break James' grasp.  
  
With a little manhandling James and Alec manoeuvred the inebriated Omegas into Alec's car. Shoving them both into the back seat they fell together nuzzling in their barely conscious state. “Cute,” Alec whispered before asking, “Who's the other one?”  
  
“Darren,” James answered with a shrug. “I think that's Mallory's scent on him, under the chemical crap.”  
  
A quick call to Selene confirmed he was Mallory's mate and he obtained an address. James climbed up the steps to the town house and rang the bell.  
  
Mallory appeared almost instantly, glaring at the Operative he had only met a couple of times. “Bond,” He snapped suspiciously.  
  
Leading Mallory to the car James gave a quick introduction to 006 before opening the door onto the piling Omegas. “I think that one is yours” James said pointing to the dark curly hair sticking out the top of a jacket and getting a growl from Mallory in response.  
  
The jostling of Darren being dislodged roused Falkirk a bit, “First thing Monday,” Falkirk lazily slurred when his pillow disappeared, still more or less unconscious.  
  
Carrying his passed out Omega bridal style Mallory ascended the steps kicking the door closed behind him.  
  
When Alec pulled up in front of James' building he held the car door open letting James pull Falkirk out. With much less grace James pulled Falkirk over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.  
  
“Night James,” Alec called as the pair disappeared into the building. Looking to the familiar Bentley that had been trailing them. The driver Alec first spotted at the fight. The hope he had been there to see him crushed, when Alec spotted James break off to scoop up Falkirk. There was no doubt Daniel had been trailing the Omegas during their escape.


	7. A hectic week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks to the readers, commenter and those who left kudos.

James appeared at the bedroom doorway, Falkirk’s phone vibrating in the Alpha's hand. Tossing it at the mound of pillows that constituted Falkirk's head the Omega grabbed blindly until his hand made contact. Answering, Falkirk pulled the phone under the pillow.  
  
“Yes Minister,” said the soft voice from beneath the pillows. “Yes, I offered him a job... My PA,” came more muffled words before Falkirk’s arm appeared waving in James' general direction. Taking the phone James replaced it with a mug that finally got Falkirk to surface.  
  
“Why did you hire him?”James asked sitting on the bed.  
  
“I wasn't going to. I just wanted to know what Smiley and Mallory were hiding and we got talking, I like him and from what I remember he could be useful,” Falkirk trailed off with a shrug.  
  
“I spoke with Stamper, Urquhart is coming over on Friday,” James informed.  
  
Nodding, “I want to speak with you and Daniel about it, together,” Falkirk said.  
  
Handing back the half empty mug Falkirk burrowed under the pillows to nurse his lingering hangover. His suffering, bedding muffled voice called, “A bacon buttie wouldn't go amiss, extra greasy with real butter please.”  
   
“Nothing but the best for my suffering mate,” James teased and went to fulfil his mate's desire.  
  
\--  
  
On Monday morning Mallory escorted his mate into Executive Branch. Falkirk stood at his outer office greeting the pair.  
  
Mallory asked his mate to wait and followed M into his office closing the door behind them. “What are you playing at?” Mallory growled.  
  
“Well I was going to use him as leverage over you but...” Falkirk trailed off opening a few folders on his desk, waving to the first, “After your bonding you got him a private tutor. Darren was educated to A-Level. A* in English, Mathematics and Chemistry, B grades in RE and Media Studies,” Falkirk said.  
  
“I know he is smart,” Mallory argued defensively.  
  
“But you don't let him use it,” Falkirk shot back holding up a security and risk assessment, “Proficient in a range of small arms and improvised explosives. Family members in the IRA and organised crime, both in London and Northern Ireland. You have kept him a virtual prisoner since your bonding. No known friends, no contact with family outside of yours. I have already heard a choice story about 'Mother Dearest',” Falkirk accused and saw the politician squirm slightly, probably helped by the ambivalence Falkirk felt towards his own mother.  
  
“Every time he has had a public appearance Darren has objected to being paraded like a prize poodle for your career, with run-ins with Generals, diplomats and politicians. Along with me he has engaged in physical conflict with General Sir Mike Crawford, the ex-Prime Minister's brother and Patrick Woolton.”  
  
Mallory had been subject to the same litany of inappropriate conduct over the past few days. His political enemies were moving against him and the Prime Minister was letting them, either to let him fall or to swoop in at the last moment to save him and gain another favour.  
  
“Let me put it into ‘Politician’ for you, I could have been punched by my PA or your mate, choose which?” Falkirk said letting the Alpha decide.  
  
While Mallory thought it over Falkirk watched Darren look about the office and jump as 002 approached. The tall dark haired operative swaggered up to Darren backing him against the desk. Falkirk's laughter burst out as Shepard crumpled to the floor after a swift knee to the groin.  
  
Swinging round Mallory only saw Darren perching against the PA's desk casually inspecting a finger nail, Shepard's body obscured behind the row of waiting chairs.  
  
Getting up, Falkirk circled round his desk to the door. When Mallory saw the prostrate Operative he immediately apologised and moved to help him stand. The look of anger and hurt that passed over Darren's face was fleeting and obvious to anyone who looked.  
  
A long time ago James bought a pocket watch for Falkirk. A T-bar attached to the central button hole of his waistcoat with a cairngorm fob hanging down, a golden chain stretching into the pockets either side in a Full Albert style. Upon the left chain hung the watch; on the right chain hung a device of Falkirk's own creation. Removing the small gold cylinder from the chain Falkirk moved to help Mallory pick up the fallen Operative.  
  
When Shepard was on his feet Falkirk pressed the micro taser to the back of the Double O's neck sending him to the floor again. This time it was Darren who burst out laughing. “If I want Double O Two on his feet he will be,” Falkirk admonished Mallory.  
  
Calling over a couple of guards he ordered them to deposit 002 on his office floor. Falkirk turned to Darren, “Perfectly handled,” Falkirk said.  
  
“If that's everything Minister we have work to do,” Falkirk said dismissing Mallory. The politician looking around the office staff, all taking what Darren and then M did in their stride, as if it was a common occurrence for an Omega to floor an Alpha.  
  
“Tanner would you get Darren settled in,” Falkirk called to the Beta and returned to his office. He watched Mallory talk with his mate briefly before leaving. The Omega dressed in a narrow cut Italian style two piece suit of blue, accentuating his narrow body, long legs and setting off his strange coloured eyes.  
  
Darren then turned to talk to Tanner clearly nervous, then gave a smile that lit up his face and shook his head in denial. Tanner gave a smile and nodded affirming whatever he was telling Darren. When Falkirk was met with the shocked eyes of the other Omega he gave into the urge and waved, the gesture numbly returned by Darren.  
  
Stepping over the unconscious body to get to his desk Falkirk worked away until he heard a pained groan. “Double O Two, GET UP!” Falkirk commanded. Darting to his feet Kevin Shepard stood to attention before his superior.  
  
“Report to HR for a mandatory sexual harassment seminar. You will then apologise to Darren and Gareth Mallory, setting the record straight or don't bother coming back,” Falkirk ordered, tossing a mission brief barely important enough for a standard Operative to bother with.  
  
“Get Out!” Falkirk ordered.  
  
\--  
  
Escorting Darren to Q branch Falkirk introduced him around and left him in Daniel's care. Falkirk headed back to E branch, he wanted the Omega out of the way when Mallory arrived.  
  
When Mallory returned, 002 was waiting in Falkirk's office having previously apologised to Darren in front of the entire communal office of E Branch.  
  
As Falkirk poured a drink for Mallory, Shepard explained his actions of this morning and apologised to the Omega's mate as well. Falkirk issued a sharp dismissal and the Operative fled the office.  
  
“Only two Alphas have never issued a posturing challenge, my predecessor and my immediate subordinate,” Falkirk informed.  
  
“You're telling me to give Darren the benefit of the doubt,” Mallory summarised the intention of this private discussion, a bollocking by another name.  
  
“I may be harsh but I will give Darren the same support and protection as anyone else in this organisation, including the likes of Double O Two who need to be reined in occasionally,” Falkirk said.  
  
“Protection, no matter who would come after him?” Mallory challenged.  
  
The desperation of the remark took Falkirk by surprise, 'What is Mallory up to?' Falkirk wondered. “I can’t promise something I cannot anticipate but I will do my best, using every skill and resource both personal and professional at my disposal,” Falkirk promised.  
  
Mallory contemplated for a moment before removing a pen and writing something down, handing the paper to Falkirk. After letting him read the address, Mallory extended his hand for the paper. When Falkirk returned it Mallory pulled out a lighter and burned the paper depositing the ashes in his now empty glass.  
  
“Where is Darren?” Mallory asked casually and deliberately changing the topic.  
  
“With a friend,” Falkirk replied, standing to indicate Mallory should follow.  
  
Leading the Minister to the Armoury, Falkirk passed the empty reception desk and entered the workshop. He pointed to the glass that separated them from the testing range. Through the heavy glass door, looking down the aisle, Darren stood with Daniel beside him going through his weapons proficiency tests.  
  
“He has an Amateur proficiency, I thought he may benefit from professional training,” Falkirk stated. Mallory watched in rapt attention as his Omega went through a similar process to what he did as part of the army.  
  
Bringing Mallory's attention to a monitor on the work bench he could see Darren's marksmanship scores, “Daniel taught me as well,” Falkirk said. Mallory made a noise but he didn't hear Falkirk.  
  
When Darren secured his weapon, a nod from Daniel alerted the Omega to his audience. Seeing his mate Darren ducked his head submissively.  
  
“Higher than your army marksmanship scores,” Falkirk observed. He thought the Alpha beside him was still so rapt in Darren's assessment that he’d not heard him again.  
  
“They were a militant IRA family, through and through. His father taught Darren and his brother from when they were children,” Mallory responded absently.  
  
“Why don't you see if you can improve your score,” Falkirk offered punching in his code to override the lock. Mallory walked into the aisle, Falkirk calling, “Q.”  
  
Daniel and Falkirk discussed Darren while keeping a casual eye on the pair in the range. Daniel was only half paying attention as he moved about what used to be his domain, grumbling continuously and incomprehensibly about the new Armoury Chief. “He's bloody awful,” Daniel observed as a 35% mark flashed up on screen from Mallory's turn.  
  
“Well he’s a politician now,” Falkirk returned, suspecting Mallory was holding himself back and trying not to intimidate his learning mate.  
  
\--  
  
“M, your brother's here,” Darren called over the intercom. “Which one?”  
  
“The one I met,” Darren answered back, diplomatically.  
  
“Go down, escort him up and don't let him wander off,” Falkirk ordered. Watching Darren walk out of E Branch Falkirk mused at his employment. It had only been a few days and Darren couldn't type to save himself and filing was another weak point but people however, were his speciality. There was a certain unpolished charm to the Omega that the Alpha Male Operatives responded well to. He even managed to control his swearing however swearing in an Irish accent was like poetry. Darren could use profanity like a weapon to mesmerise his enemies, like backing up 001 until the man hit the glass wall of Falkirk's office.  
  
Like 002, Darren had to put most of the Alphas he met in their place but once he had they settled down around him, especially when Falkirk ignored or downright supported Darren's conduct. He could even deal with the politicians and diplomats politely. All in all he was working out.  
  
When Sherlock arrived he sauntered into Falkirk's office plopping down on a chair comfortably. “A gesture, Lady Smallwood noticed it when Magnussen was speaking at a committee she was on. She noticed one other do a virtually identical gesture, _you_.”  
  
Sitting back and crossing his legs, Falkirk noticed something was bothering Sherlock. “I'm not a mind reader and what gestures Charles Augustus Magnussen makes are not usually important to me.”  
  
“Remove glasses, clean them, replace them, look to all members of the committee or interview panel then blackmail them, exposing damaging facts,” Sherlock rattled off then seemed to sag, “I think he arranged to burn John alive. He then introduced himself and marked my flat, I can smell him everywhere,” Sherlock fell silent and Falkirk was a little worried.  
  
Handing over his glasses the first thing Sherlock noted was their weight. He instructed Sherlock to press in the hinge pin and put them on. “Keeping your eyes on me, bow your head and tilt it slightly, like an omega submissive pose,” Falkirk instructed. Falkirk then used his mobile phone to bring up the facial recognition program for the glasses.  
  
Sherlock did as instructed, the facial recognition system identified Falkirk as his details started scrolling in front of Sherlock's image of the world. “A HUD! Of course, stupid, stupid, so simple,” Sherlock proclaimed, jumping to his feet and immediately sitting back down. A wave of dizziness struck him, the blurred world around him not moving quite right.  
  
Handing the glasses back before they gave him a headache Sherlock contemplated his brother, “What do you know about Magnussen?”  
  
“Legitimately he is a muck raker. Not so legitimately, information broker and blackmailer,” Falkirk informed.  
  
“Are you afraid of him?” Sherlock asked. Falkirk shook his head in response, Sherlock adding, “Mycroft is.”  
  
Falkirk was a little confused. As far as he was aware Magnussen only dealt in information, even Falkirk needed a trigger pulled occasionally. The thought that Mycroft was afraid of him was a little concerning because it meant there was something big Mycroft was keeping secret.  
   
Sherlock pulled open the office door looking to what should be the small, vulnerable, in need of protection Omega brother, the only one that held no fear of the most dangerous people Sherlock knew of. “I think I am afraid of Magnussen as well,” Sherlock admitted and walked out.  
  
Falkirk contemplated the media mogul. From what Sherlock had said it looked like he had some homework to do. He couldn't help Mycroft with Urquhart but if Magnussen was endangering Mycroft, Sherlock and John it would be open season for Magnussen where Falkirk was concerned.  
        
\--  
  
The address Mallory gave him turned out to be another gentleman's club. A classic marble fronted building with heavy doors and brass handles. Getting the impression it was a clandestine meeting Falkirk and Selene had dressed down and arrived by Selene's own car. The Alpha on duty in burgundy blazer stepped into their path up to the door.  
  
“Gareth Mallory is expecting me,” Falkirk stated. The doorman took one look at Falkirk's muted tartan trousers and brown cardigan under his anorak and Selene's skin tight leather under her long coat. The message relayed sceptically, Mallory appeared, giving a raised eyebrow at Falkirk's clothing as well.  
  
Leading him through the panelled hallways with lush carpet, “I don't want you involved but you need to know,” Mallory whispered. Indicating Selene should wait outside, Mallory let Falkirk pass him.  
  
The dark lounge, lamps and the open fire cast strange and dancing shadows everywhere. Alpha fear tainted the air, some trying to hide in the big leather wing-back chairs. He wasn’t surprised to see several people he knew, the Commander of the met, Mycroft, and Smiley amongst a few others.  
  
Falkirk couldn't help it, “Remember, Remember the fifth of November. Gunpowder, treason and plot,” he called drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Mallory stiffened beside him as Falkirk was met with several growls.  
  
“Urquhart is not a laughing matter,” Mycroft admonished. Walking up to his brother's wing back chair Falkirk circled behind and leaned close to his ear whispering, “Is this what Magnussen has on you?”  
  
Surging to his feet Mycroft glared at his brother, “Urquhart intends to destroy the monarchy.”  
  
Mycroft trying to deflect the argument was not a surprise to Falkirk. “Urquhart isn't a republican, quite the opposite in fact; he came down to England with who he and every other Scots royalist call James VI. The King is over reaching his power, he is not meant to get involved with politics but he is and I suspect it is your doing.” Mycroft always likes others to do his dirty work. “According to MI6 political analysts, Urquhart will call an election to gain a mandate, if he loses he will be out, if he wins he will force the King to abdicate, the crown will immediately pass the heir,” Falkirk stated.  
  
“A boy! You want a boy to be king?” Mycroft argued back.  
  
Shaking his head Falkirk headed to the door, “Amateurs!” he spat leaving the group in no doubt to his opinion. Either Falkirk was missing something or he couldn't see the same threat in Urquhart as these people. Even the play with James and Stamper Falkirk had been expecting, it was just fortuitous that James was involved and Urquhart's plan would spectacularly backfire.  
  
Stopping in front of Mallory, “I will keep Darren safe,” Falkirk said softly, looking to Mallory. If this group was going to war with Urquhart, Falkirk was sure the Alpha would respond in kind and he would be needed to keep Darren safe in the fall out.  
  
“Thank you,” Mallory whispered as the door closed.  
  
\--  
  
It had been a long five days since he told his mate about the meeting. James sat at the brand new dining table, this one glass so it would give a more satisfying shatter if he wanted to destroy it, the last one took far too much effort for it to just split halfway along.  
  
When the bell sounded James got up, opening the door. A white haired Alpha stood, his cold, blue piercing eyes enough to inwardly intimidate the hardened Double O.  
  
Every instinct James had as an Alpha and an Operative screamed that the man was a danger. A new greater sense of respect bubbled inside James for his Omega to go up against the man before him. Then he realised this man was here because he was afraid of his mate, on some level at least.  
  
“Good morning,” Urquhart greeted pleasantly in a soft drawl.  
  
“Come in,” James said, the words sour just wanting to attack and not to play nice. Standing aside James let the Prime Minister in and slammed the door before the rectangle of a Lurch shaped bodyguard could follow.  
  
Turning sharply, the cold emotionless glare intensified. “You're M's Alpha,” Urquhart accused the soft voice raising like rolling thunder. A dull thumping came from the door as Urquhart's bodyguard tried to kick it in.  
  
Tapping the faux wood door, “No one is getting in that way,” James said and indicated a chair for the Prime Minister to take.  
  
As Urquhart sat poised with back straight James sat as well, “M would like to see you after this,” James said with barely concealed hostility. A slight clench, that was the first time James had used the title when his mate would hear it.  
  
“I am sure he does,” Urquhart returned.  
  
A sudden louder thump sounded just before the door swung open. Daniel stood in the doorway the dazed bodyguard at his feet. “Q,” James greeted.  
  
“Double O Seven,” Daniel returned.  
  
Closing the door behind him Daniel approached the Prime Minister. “Daniel Carrington, Deputy Director of MI6, Quartermaster and Double O Seven's handler,” Daniel introduced pleasantly.  
  
Calmly Daniel and James explained the measures in place to prevent a conflict of interest in M. Urquhart knowing he had been caught violating the non aggression pact listened intently until the banging at the door started up again.  
  
Showing Urquhart to the door James turned to a small camera sitting on the breakfast bar, aimed to where they had been sitting. “M is expecting you,” James reminded.  
  
Falkirk sat watching proceedings in his tactical room at MI6 along with Selene and Darren. “Would you be so kind as to greet the Prime Minister at reception,” Falkirk asked looking to Darren.  
  
“Sure,” Darren responded with a concerned look but headed for the lobby.  
  
“Don't show submissiveness or he'll eat you alive,” Falkirk shouted after Darren before he could exit E branch. Falkirk headed to his office.  
  
As expected when Urquhart entered Executive Branch, the moment he spotted Falkirk's office he lengthened his stride leaving his escort trailing behind and walked through the open door.  
  
Pushing a pre-filled glass towards the guest chair closest to Urquhart Falkirk held that gaze, it was both emotionless and a little malevolent. Taking the hint the Prime Minister sat. “Mallory's,” Urquhart asked indicating Darren taking his seat outside Falkirk's office.  
  
“Yes, I got the impression his mate wants my job,” Falkirk mused.  
  
“Friends closer enemies’ closer,” Urquhart stated.  
  
“Obviously I am not keeping you close enough,” Falkirk shot back.  
  
“I doubt you would believe I was just taking precautions. So what will it take for this to go away?” Urquhart said.  
  
Here was the point. Falkirk needed to give the Prime Minister a way to back out of the situation, without humiliating him. “I am going to a great deal of time and effort to cultivate friends in places I don't yet have them. I keep one Mr Mallory happy, the other Mr Mallory will also be happy,” Falkirk said indicating Darren.  
  
“I don't think you will bring this up but thank you. For a blackmailer and spymaster to keep their word was rather surprising, quite honourable,” Urquhart said. Then indicating Darren beyond the internal window, “I will consider his mate as one of yours and will keep Gareth 'happy'.”  
  
Darren escorted Urquhart through the building again. It was not until Darren was back that it twigged, Falkirk had only shown honour to Urquhart once in the past week. 'Urquhart knows about Mycroft's meeting' Falkirk thought. Deciding to have a casual word with Mycroft over Christmas Falkirk put it out of his mind for now.  
  



	8. A Holmes/Bond Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks to those who read, left kudos and commented.

Picking up his new dinner jacket from the tailors Falkirk picked up the other two suits his mother had ordered as well. Knocking on the door of 221B Baker Street Mrs Hudson was in a flap about her dress, “Is it smart enough dear?” she asked Falkirk, holding up an explosion in a paint factory with a frilly collar.  
  
“Very nice, very you,” Falkirk responded.  
  
“Is that for the boys?” She continued, talking about the suit carriers over Falkirk's shoulder. “Yes Mrs Hudson,” Falkirk responded as he continued to climb the stairs.  
  
“Dear,” Mrs Hudson called just before he was about to knock on Sherlock's door, “The smell,” she whispered indicating the door. “I've tried everything. John says its fine but Sherlock,” Mrs Hudson said shaking her head.  
  
When Falkirk pushed the door open Sherlock barely looked up as he entered. The pungent scent of a strange Alpha permeated the enclosed space cutting through, oppressing Sherlock's in a base marking gesture no longer considered civilised.  
  
Hanging up the suits Falkirk moved to his brother plopping down in his lap. “Much better” he mumbled pressing his nose into Sherlock's neck. This close it was just Sherlock's heavy Alpha scent he could smell with a slightly distressed que.  
  
Eagerly Sherlock wrapped his arms around the Omega pressing his nose to his brother's neck as well, inhaling his untainted calm, inviting and relaxing Omega pheromones. He moved the arm that was around Falkirk's back up to the neck.  
  
It took Falkirk a moment to realise Sherlock's caresses of his neck were in a pattern. It took Falkirk some time to understand the ASCII sequence playing out on his neck.  
  
'Magnussen wants Mycroft's laptop' Sherlock's fingers conveyed.  
  
Suspecting the flat of being bugged Falkirk made no move to indicate something unusual was happening. Fighting his instinct to relax and let his mind wander, Falkirk waited until the message repeated before drumming his fingerers on Sherlock's chest in response.  
  
'Give it to him'.  
  
“We will pick you up on Christmas Eve at 11:00am sharp,” Falkirk said pulling himself up.  
  
“You're going to forget these aren't you,” Falkirk accused pointing to the suits. With a dismissive noise and a shrug as his answer Falkirk picked up the suits again.  
  
“Have you tried marking your territory,” Falkirk asked hesitantly.  
  
“John says it's barbaric and disgusting,” Sherlock shot back.  
  
“John's a Beta, have you told him you and Mrs Hudson still smell Magnussen?” Falkirk responded. Sherlock just shrugged.  
   
Falkirk returned to MI6, paying a visit to Q Branch to make some arrangements, then made a few calls, the first to Selene asking her to accompany them to his parents for Christmas.  
  
The next call was his mother. “Did you get Sherlock and John's suits? I would have asked Mycroft but he is quite distracted lately,” Violet Holmes said after the first civilities had been exchanged.  
  
'At least the concern for Mycroft sounded genuine' Falkirk thought answering, “Yes I picked them up; John wasn't there so I kept them in case Sherlock deletes their existence as irrelevant data. I'm phoning about my Bodyguard, she will be joining us.”  
  
“The more the merrier,” Violet Holmes answered with well concealed annoyance.  
  
\--    
  
Having requested a larger car Falkirk and James piled in before heading to Sherlock's to pick them up. James sat up front with the driver to give the group some more space in the back. Falkirk sat with his back to James and Sherlock beside him. Mrs Hudson and John on the back seat.  
  
“Oh this is very nice dear,” Mrs Hudson said looking about the car's interior. Sherlock barked, “Do shut up.”  
  
Falkirk elbowed Sherlock, no matter how much he sympathised with his brother's concerned agitation it wasn't Mrs Hudson who was the cause. John snapped back, “Sherlock.”  
  
“Tail, Jag, black,” the driver informed.  
  
Looking past John and Mrs Hudson and out through the back window, “Selene,” Falkirk identified the sports car owned by his bodyguard. He ordered the driver to issue a 'stand down', the last thing he needed was for Selene to be delayed.  
  
As if just realising, John looked over his shoulder to the police motorbike behind them to the one in front, “Mycroft doesn’t get a police escort.”  
  
“Falkirk is more important,” Sherlock dead panned.  
  
“We're all important,” Mrs Hudson added.  
  
When Watson compared Falkirk to Mycroft, James burst out laughing, “The difference between Mycroft and Falkirk, Mycroft has to ask people to do things, Falkirk orders them”  
  
Sherlock added, “The Director of MI6 was a necessity, Mycroft is a freelance convenience.”  
  
“He's the consulting detective of the secret service, immensely annoying and sort of useful,” Falkirk said getting a glare from Sherlock at the comparison.  
  
Pulling up at the Holmes Family residence the vehicle convoy moved up the driveway coming to a stop at the door of the red brick, Victorian country house. Falkirk pushed the door open to see the tall lean woman with jet black hair in a French roll. Siger Holmes in comparison looked like a balding Umpa-Lumpa at her side.  
  
James appeared at Falkirk's side, Selene appearing at his other. Walking forward Falkirk extended his hand to Violet greeting her with a stiff 'Mummy' and then moved onto his father before officially introducing Selene to his parents. Sherlock seemed to dismiss their parents, leaving Falkirk to introduce John and Mrs Hudson.  
  
He following the old round faced Butler with thin but still yellow blond hair, to his old room, now with a queen size bed taking up most of the space. The MI6 agent in the Holmes household leaned in and whispered, his soft Scots brogue rolling, “Congratulations M,” before giving James a dismissive look and walked out.  
  
“The old bastard still hates me,” James complained closing the door behind the butler.  Falkirk shot back, “Mr Hudson did catch you and _Mummy_ in an embrace.”  
  
Opening the bag he’d checked out of Q Branch Falkirk swept the room for surveillance devices, still not trusting his step mother as far as he could throw her.  
  
They met up in the living room where a tea had been put on. One of the tea pots had Earl Grey which his mother despised, Falkirk suspected a peace offering of sorts. Helping himself to some sandwiches Falkirk returned to James. Much to Falkirk's amazement his father was engaging Mrs Hudson in animated conversation, showing charm and whit Falkirk didn't know the man possessed.  
  
Sherlock ignored John while John complained quietly, “One room, one bed, what does she think is going on? We are not gay!”  
  
Sherlock grunted and after taking a cup of tea hung on the fringes of the room, like a thunder cloud on the horizon.  
  
Selene came down next in combat trousers and a tight military green jumper. Perching herself in a chair she did the minimum for polite conversation. When Violet entered she glided to Falkirk perching beside him to engage in a brief stiff conversation. James wrapped an arm around his mate's waist giving a challenging look to the other Alpha as Falkirk and his mother spoke. Falkirk asked about Mycroft. “He got held up but he shouldn't be long,” Violet responded.  
  
As the afternoon wore on Falkirk casually mentioned a pub. Selene, James and John jumped at the chance. With such a light snowfall they decided to walk there. With Mrs Hudson going to lay down Sherlock reluctantly followed the group into the village.  
  
Everyone who had come for Christmas seemed to have the same idea of escaping their family and the pub was packed. With a minor turf war James, Sherlock and Selene secured a table and sent John and Falkirk to the bar. Returning with the drinks, it was too noisy to hold a proper conversation but when Falkirk caught his brother's eye he gave a smile and a small salute with his glass. Sherlock sagged in relief, now aware Falkirk had a plan.  
  
They managed a couple of rounds before they wrapped up and headed out into the darkening afternoon light. Falkirk hung on his Alpha's arm getting the occasional nuzzle as they walked in a loose line of Sherlock and John ahead and Selene trailing behind. By the time they had reached the Holmes house it was pitch black. Only Sherlock's years of experience traipsing about the surrounding fields and grounds stopped them getting lost on the route back.  
  
Mycroft was reading a newspaper and Mrs Hudson watched a movie on TV when the group discarded their coats and snow and mud caked shoes. Moving into the living room Falkirk caught his brother's attention and walked out again.  
  
When Mycroft followed his brother out, “We need to talk” Falkirk informed.  
  
Nodding to the front door Falkirk followed Mycroft to the porch. Tapping out a cigarette Mycroft lit it just before Falkirk plucked it out of his mouth and took a drag. “Urquhart knows about your meeting and he knows I have already dismissed your efforts against him,” Falkirk informed as his brother lit another.  
  
Sherlock emerged before Mycroft could respond. Immediately he pulled the same trick as Falkirk plucking the freshly lit cigarette from Mycroft's lips. “Do you two mind?” Mycroft snapped lighting his third.  
  
“What have you planned?” Sherlock demanded. “How does he know?” Mycroft snapped.  
  
Falkirk was momentarily confused before understanding he was having two overlapping conversations, Sherlock asking his question while Mycroft was still thinking they were talking about Urquhart.  
  
Explaining Mycroft's question was the easiest, “The Prime Minister isn't a fool.” Summarising, he deduced, “Someone is either playing both sides against the middle or you have a full blown traitor in your midst. Urquhart crossed a line with me recently, in exchange I am able to protect Mallory as long as he doesn’t go too far,” Falkirk said.  
  
Moving onto Sherlock's problem, “Do as Magnussen desires, exactly as he desires.”  
  
When Mycroft realised that his brothers were about to go for Magnussen he objected strongly. Falkirk argued, “It could have been Magnussen that sold you out, it's his style.”  
  
Mycroft still seemed reluctant to discuss what Magnussen had on him. “How do you intend to control Magnussen's archive if he is arrested?” Mycroft insisted.  
  
Before Falkirk could reassure Mycroft, “Dinner is served,” Violet Holmes called from the door making the three turn sharply.  
  
Falkirk the only one not hiding his cigarette or holding their breath to prevent the smoke escaping answered, “Just finishing,” he said indicating the cigarette in his hand. Giving a smile and shake of her head Violet turned to go back inside. Sherlock and Mycroft gasped out a breath and released the plume of some they were trying to hide.  
  
\--  
  
Pulling himself out of bed, the smell of his Alpha was intense and the evidence of their mutual pleasure decorated Falkirk mostly. Grasping James' hand Falkirk started pulling his protesting mate to the small bathroom. Just before midnight Falkirk forced James into a pair of pyjamas and dressing gown he had bought especially for the occasion. “We were already in what we usually sleep in, before the shower,” James purred.  
  
“You can unwrap me when we get back,” Falkirk offered and rocked forward to give a quick kiss. Before leaving the room Falkirk opened his collar a bit more to show off the mark he usually hid, the dark patch of skin at the juncture of his neck were James liked to show his claim. Grasping James' hand and giving him a smile, the Alpha's hungry eyes lingered on the exposed mark a moment before they walked out of the room.  
  
They went down to the living room where Mycroft was already waiting in a burgundy full length dressing gown. Sherlock was in pale blue pyjamas and John was in a red and blue striped towelling dressing gown with the badge of a football club on the breast, bare legs sticking out of the bottom. Siger was in a similar dressing gown to Mycroft when he appeared and Violet was in a deep purple satin dressing gown.  
  
As had been the Holmes tradition the family exchanged presents just before midnight on Christmas Eve, seeing in Christmas Day. When Violet gave Falkirk a tea blend James leaned in close, “Check it for bugs,” he warned. With the gifts exchanged and tipples had been had the family retired to get some rest before the festivities later that day.  
  
After breakfast Falkirk and Mycroft set-up an office in the library, a small square room with a table in the middle, which Falkirk and Mycroft shared sitting opposite each other. Like a ghost, the door opened with a snick at about 11 o'clock and a steaming mug appeared on an open space beside Falkirk. “He always had a soft spot for you,” Mycroft observed when the butler had gone.  
  
Falkirk gave a soft smile, his time in this house was a memory he would prefer not to look back on. “You ignored me, Sherlock was equal parts bully and big brother, Mummy was just a bully and daddy ignored and hated me, he still does, only one word said to me so far. Hudson was a shadow giving what support he could under his employer's noses. Do you remember Thomas, he was nice and was killed on the day of my kidnapping...” Falkirk trailed off a tinge of regret, Mycroft had gone very quiet indicating he was trying to process emotions he couldn't really handle. Falkirk let the matter drop, concentrating on his work.  
  
Sherlock sauntered in giving Mycroft's laptop a casual look, “Lunch is in two hours, Mummy wishes us to get ready and interact.”  
  
Ever the good boy Mycroft went immediately. Under Sherlock's watchful gaze Falkirk pulled out a decoy laptop and replaced it with Mycroft's laptop. From the same bag he then handed Sherlock a slim aerosol can, “I don't know if you had something else planned but I can only help if I can predict you,” Falkirk said.  
  
Sherlock looked at the can in his hand, it would fit easily in his pocket and there was a pin in the top like a gas grenade. “Pull the pin and you will have a few minutes to leave before succumbing to the effects,” Falkirk instructed and Sherlock nodded his understanding.  
  
“Will John be safe?”  
  
All Falkirk could do was shrug. He couldn't see every possibility. “Keep John by your side and we will be at your back,” Falkirk said.  
  
\--  
  
Coming down stairs dressed in his white tie, Falkirk joined the early guests and his family. Amongst the well dressed crowd it was Selene gliding down the grand stairs that turned everyone's head.  
  
She wore a narrow full length, strapless dark metallic grey dress with a slit on one side, going up to her knee. A cream scarf draped elegantly around her neck, complimenting the long satin gloves the same colour as the dress. Selene’s hair still windblown tumbled round her shoulders, her eyes predatory and gleaming.  
  
Falkirk the first to regain his composure hit his Alpha who was still ogling the out of character woman. “She scrubs up well,” James observed, giving Falkirk an unrepentant and teasing smile.  
  
“Better than you do,” Falkirk shot back.  
  
More guests arrived before the Butler announced Christmas Lunch was about to be served. Catching up to James and Selene Falkirk checked his watch, “Let it begin,” he said quietly. Filing into the dining room and taking their appointed seats, the food was served. Polite conversation bubbled around the room. Falkirk recognised what constituted the Holmes Pack, mostly acquaintances, low level politicians, civil service and police. Falkirk was quite underwhelmed by what portrayed itself to be a powerful pack. Violet was sitting at the head of the table as Pack Alpha, however outside of the pack rankings Falkirk was the most senior person in attendance followed by Mycroft.  
  
When Sherlock excused himself and John for a moment, Falkirk, Selene and James pulled a small device from their pockets slipping the micro re-breathers into their mouths. The devices weren’t new or special; they had been developed in the sixties. This modern version was similar to a gum-shield and could be contained fully inside the mouth giving about 5-10 minutes of fresh air depending on how fast you were breathing.  
  
Unsurprisingly Mr Hudson, the butler toppled first but it was too late to be of warning to anyone. Those who tried to get up fell to the floor.  
  
The steady beating of blades grew louder. James looked to Falkirk, “I'm on it,” he responded pulling out his phone. James and Selene watched Sherlock and John heading for the landing helicopter. Entering the library Falkirk picked up his own laptop pleased to see Sherlock had taken the decoy.  
  
Returning in time to see Magnussen's helicopter take off, “Ten minutes,” Falkirk stated tucking his laptop under his arm while he checked over his gun. At Falkirk's insistence James pulled Mycroft towards the open window letting in fresh air and diluting the gas.  
  
At the sound of another helicopter Falkirk handed Selene and James a radio each and still dressed in their formal wear they boarded the helicopter.  
  
Booting up his laptop Falkirk activated the duplicate laptop in Sherlock's possession. A sonar displayed the laptop's surroundings. Instructing the pilot to land about a mile from the estate, James and Selene headed off in the direction of Appledore while Falkirk generated a map of the estate as Sherlock moved through the building.  
  
“All clear,” James reported.  
  
The MI6 helicopter lifted off again to land within the perimeter wall of Appledore. Walking into the building Falkirk was met by James and Selene. While Sherlock occupied himself in the legendary archive, Falkirk rummaged for the server that ran the house. Coming across an air conditioned broom cupboard, Falkirk entered. Seeing the blade servers Falkirk connected his laptop, initiating a virus to clone the hard drives and then wipe them. When the progress bar completed Falkirk disconnected and returned to the lounge overlooking an atrium like internal garden.  
  
“There is nothing you can do, I can topple governments,” Magnussen was bragging to Sherlock.  
  
“That is pathetically easy,” Falkirk dismissed approaching from their rear. Magnussen looked to the approaching Omega with suspicion. “M,” he greeted.  
  
“You don't think you would win against me,” Falkirk observed. As Magnussen issued threats and warnings Falkirk flipped open his laptop, a map of Sherlock's passage through Appledore displayed on screen. “I don't see an Archive?”  
  
“It's all in his head,” Sherlock responded as another helicopter sounded in the distance. The tall lean media mogul started walking to the door to see the arrival of Mycroft.  
  
“Big Brother,” Magnussen mused then rounded on John, “I want to flick you. Just once in the eye,” Magnussen demanded.  
  
Falkirk didn't know what was wrong with the Alpha, he still thought he was in control. From thinking Magnussen was a clinical psychopath Falkirk now just thought the man was insane with little grip on reality. Or Magnussen thought what he had on Mycroft was so damaging he was willing to wager it was enough to protect him.  
  
“Are you sure?” Falkirk said looking to Sherlock and getting a nod in conformation to the supposed existence of the archive.  
  
“Terminate,” Falkirk flung over his shoulder and walked towards his waiting helicopter, a single shot sounded. Looking back, Sherlock held the smoking gun and James looked rather disappointed his gun was only half way raised.  
  
\--  
  
Falkirk, the Prime Minister, Mycroft and Lady Smallwood where in the PM's office. “Your brother is becoming a problem Mr Holmes, murder cannot be over looked. We can’t let sympathy cloud our judgement,” The Prime Minster drawled and Mycroft was having trouble not cowering under his cold gaze.  
  
“No one has accused me of being overly sympathetic,” Mycroft tried to drawl but Falkirk could scent that he was scared.  
  
“Should I be concerned that you are here and were at the Holmes house for Christmas?” Urquhart asked casually, looking to Falkirk.  
  
“I thought you should see this,” Falkirk said handing over a mission brief.  
  
Perching his half moon glasses on his nose the Prime Minister read over the document. A look of concern and anger crossed his face as the PM read on. “Magnussen was trying to steal Prometheus, what is Prometheus? And Holmes' brother, one of yours!” Urquhart demanded, in quiet sharp statements.  
  
“Sherlock was my predecessor's, technically, I was his MI6 handler. As for the other thing, I can’t confirm or deny the existence of anything called Prometheus,” Falkirk answered. Then matched the Prime Minister's sinister smile, “Now I could continue into the reach of Magnussen's corruption, terrorism, who else he blackmailed into committing acts of treason or we could all drop it”  
  
Seeing Falkirk's threat for what it was Urquhart raised an eyebrow in confusion, “I have no association...”  
  
“Who?” Urquhart demanded. Realising Falkirk wasn't targeting him this time.  
  
Just because the Appledore Archive was in Magnussen's memory it didn't mean there wasn't a paper trail to follow so Falkirk compiled a contact list between Magnussen and his informers. Handing over a brief containing MPs and Cabinet Members who had supplied Magnussen with secrets, Falkirk let the Prime Minister peruse the document. “Leave those cowards to me,” Urquhart ordered putting the document to the side.  
  
“We will prepare a new release on Magnussen, based on your evidence,” Urquhart said.  
  
“I think that would be best,” Falkirk returned.  
  
Standing, both Falkirk and Urquhart looked to the two other Alphas in confusion, both in stunned silence and looking between them. Urquhart sighed, “Mr Holmes you may go. M has saved your brother.”  
  
\--  
  
“Good news,” Falkirk said dropping the newspaper in front of Mycroft. 'Media Mogul trades State Secrets' splashed over the front page.  
  
“Yes it seems to have all worked out,” Mycroft observed.  
  
“Are you still annoyed I didn't tell you what I was planning?” Falkirk responded.  
  
“Thank you, you have kept the wolves from the door. The Prime Minister was not pleased you stepped in but at least Sherlock survived Urquhart's misdirected wrath,” Mycroft eventually said.  
  
Looking to his brother Falkirk tried to read his cryptic expression. Pointedly looking around the private room of the Diogenes club, in an unspoken question, Falkirk then looked back to his brother. Getting a nod that it was safe to talk from Mycroft, Falkirk stood coming to sit in his brother's lap and started nuzzling the Alpha.  
  
“Are you really that afraid of Urquhart?” Falkirk spoke softly brushing his nose just under his brother's ear.  
  
“What worries me is you are not,” Mycroft responded, stiffly wrapping is arms around Falkirk.  
  
“Most Alphas scares me still,” Falkirk admitted, “I just squash down on my fear like James taught me. I'm afraid of Daddy, Mummy, Mallory, and Urquhart even you and Sherlock...”  
  
“You don't need to be afraid of me,” Mycroft interrupted a tinge of pain laced his voice. Falkirk pressed on, “Daniel taught me meditative techniques that prevent scent ques and I just bluff the rest. As for Urquhart, everything he is can be applied to someone else. Blackmailer applied to you and I. Manipulator applies to Olivia Mansfield, you, Sherlock and I. Murderer applies to James, Alec, Selene, Daniel, Sherlock and John. Even you and I have had people murdered, not all of them guilty. Compared to all of that why should I fear Urquhart above anyone else.”  
  
Mycroft started moving his hand instinctively, stroking Falkirk's neck and back, “I have seen you change but I didn't realise Alphas still had such sway over you,” Mycroft admitting his slip in perception. Falkirk shrugged absently enjoying the soft touches and naturally neutral scent his brother always seemed to have.  
  
Falkirk didn't know how long he sat there being stroked by his brother when Selene knocked the door to remind him about his next appointment. Pulling himself up Falkirk straightened his suit and headed to the door.  
  
“The blast patterns, if you're still interested in what we found suspicious,” Mycroft stated just as Falkirk was passing the threshold.  
  



	9. M(other) knows best

Walking through Q branch Falkirk entered the administration office, gave a quick hello to Annie as he passed and headed up the stairs into Daniel's office.  
  
“I want your opinion on something,” Falkirk stated handing over the information on the Resurgent IRA. When Daniel came to the images of the car bombing a frown came to the Scot's face. “CCTV of the explosion?”  
  
“None,” Falkirk answered.  
  
Holding the photo for Falkirk to see, “It looks like the blast originated from within the cabin,” Daniel explained as he pointed out supporting characteristics of the blast.  
  
“If it was a terrorist attack you would expect the blast to have originated underneath, engine compartment or the fuel tank,” Daniel continued. “Whoever planted the bomb had access to the vehicle's interior. Given that it was a modern BMW you can rule out it being a quickly planted device, it would take time to get inside, assuming the perpetrator didn't have a key.”  
  
“Thank you,” Falkirk said walking out. Curious, ministerial cars were not usually left alone for any length of time outside of secure parking areas. His own car was inspected before it arrived in the morning and during the day there was a driver and two police escorts with it at all times.  
  
There shouldn't have been enough time to plant a bomb in the way Daniel described unless the person did have access to the interior, that would bring the list down to Woolton (killed), the driver (killed) or Special Branch protection.  
  
'Is there a problem with Special Branch?' Q wondered as he headed back to his office. There had been rumours about the specialised protection branch of the MET going back decades, covering up scandals and breaking into property even that raid on his own flat was carried out by Special Branch. Only once they came up against a gun toting Alec and issued a request for an Armed Response Unit did anyone (M) find out about the scheduled raid on the flat that Siger Holmes had organised.  
  
\--  
  
Reading over the mission report in front of him Falkirk looked up to Maloney, his first proper mission since becoming a Double O had apparently gone off without a hitch. “Is this a full record of what occurred?” Falkirk asked.  
  
Despite getting a 'Yes M' Falkirk didn't quite believe it. The progress of the investigation was concise and to the point. There was not a single wound unaccounted for, the capture and interrogation of 009 was documented. Falkirk knew that Maloney had achieved the aim of his mission, rather inelegantly but locking the target in a room with a grenade did end up in Shan's death, so Falkirk could do no more than live with his uneasy feeling and watch for any signs.  
  
”Dismissed,” Falkirk ordered.  
  
Following the operative to the door, Falkirk watched him move through E Branch and out of sight. “Is he alright?” Darren asked, also watching the blond Omega's exit.  
  
“I don't think so, keep your ear to the ground,” Falkirk responded. The gossip mill of MI6 a value unto itself. As M it was cut off from Falkirk but Darren's flamboyant charm and position as the PA to M had gained him access to some of the best gossips in the building.  
  
Darren knocked on his door several hours later. Waiving him in, Darren explained he had been speaking to Tanner and a theft from medical had come up. The medication taken was low priority and Tanner didn't seem to recognise the drug in question.  
  
“Reschedule or cancel today's appointments and get Selene to track Double O Nine,” Falkirk ordered and headed for the Medical Branch. He spoke to the Doctor on duty who protested at giving instructions on administering medication to an unknown person. Eventually after issuing an order she complied and instructed Falkirk on placing an IV (something he already knew) together with the devices.  
  
Falkirk's phone started ringing. “He's heading home, just leaving the gym now,” Selene informed when Falkirk picked up.  
  
Packing the items into his briefcase Falkirk headed for the lift. Exiting on the garage level Falkirk walked to the exit ramp. Hearing the Mazda sports car approach Falkirk stepped out into the middle of the path, fixing the approaching driver with a hard look.  
  
The blond, muscled, Omega needed to slam on the brakes, his dark blue eyes glared at his boss preventing his exit. The look on the waiflike man was cryptic and unreadable, indicating Maloney was in trouble. He relaxed back, waiting for the inevitable axe to fall.  
  
Coming round the car Falkirk pulled open the passenger door and got in. Falkirk calmly issued an address and an order to go. The journey occurred in silence until Falkirk instructed Maloney to park in front of his building. “Come on and bring the Neurotriptoline,” Falkirk ordered before opening the door and getting out.  
  
Riding the lift to the top floor Falkirk could see and scent the Operative's nervousness. “How much trouble am I in?” Maloney asked softly, and Falkirk could see the Double O had resigned himself to his expected fate.  
  
“None, I do not know you stole medical supplies, I have not _officially_ been told anything, I am not doing this,” Falkirk informed. Exiting the lift Falkirk unlocked the door and entered.  
  
“Bond's your mate,” Maloney said, scenting the flat.  
  
“I thought most knew,” Falkirk responded absently. “Sit,” he continued, pulling out a dining chair.  
  
Taking the Operative's rucksack Falkirk removed a single IV bag before placing the rest in the fridge. Laying out the items he needed Falkirk looked to the Operative, “Remove your shirt.”  
  
Connecting the IV bag to a pump Falkirk attached it to the Operative's upper arm. Placing the needle he then programmed the flow rate for the medication into the pump. “You’re good at that,” Maloney observed.  
  
“I've been doing this for James and Alec since I was 15, pretty good at stitches too. They ran rings around the medics and the psychs as well. They never hid anything from M though,” Falkirk responded.  
  
“The Doctor warned me to watch for side effects, from what I remember they’re bad” Falkirk informed, clearing up the table.  
  
“You know what happened?” Maloney finally responded to Falkirk.  
     
Filling and flipping on the kettle Falkirk looked over to Maloney, “Despite popular belief, I am not psychic.”  
  
“Seems like it,” Maloney shot back.  
  
Pouring the water Falkirk returned with the tea pot and a couple of mugs. Placing them on the table he returned to the kitchen for some biscuits and sugar. “I’m going to teach you how to write a report though,” Falkirk said. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out four after action reports, one of them Maloney's and laid them in front of the Operative with an instruction to, “Read.”  
  
While Maloney read the reports thoroughly, Falkirk pulled out his laptop and started doing some personal business.  
  
Maloney read through the anonymised mission reports. From the difficulty they were more than likely Double Os but he didn't recognise the details. Nothing looked out of the ordinary and he didn't know what M expected of him. Coming to the end he was no more informed than when he started. “I'm finished,” Maloney announced.  
  
Pushing his laptop closed and to the side Falkirk opened one of the reports he had brought. He pointed to a phrase 'Pride in his accomplishments', asking what it meant.  
  
Reading over the passage the observation didn't quite fit with the duties of a guard. “It means the guard worked the Operative over,” Falkirk supplied.  
  
Flipping a few pages Falkirk pointed to another phrase 'Personal interest in the interrogation'. “The target tortured the Operative himself?” Maloney guessed getting a nod from Falkirk.  
  
'Interrogation of an imprecise nature' Falkirk pointed to next. Maloney thought for a few moments and shook his head. “The Operative was tortured for enjoyment,” Falkirk supplied.  
  
The next described an interrogation of a male operative and the reason Falkirk brought the file, “The interrogator knew the Operative,” Maloney supplied.  
  
“When this Operative described something as 'personal nature' he meant 'of a sexual nature',” Falkirk said.  
  
“Every Operative has their own unique language but they never left anything out,” Falkirk informed placing Maloney's report in front of him. “You copied their style without understanding the meaning behind it.”  
  
Pulling out a pad and pen Falkirk sat poised, “December 31st, arrived in Sofia,” Falkirk started.  
  
“Made contact with Prann at prearranged rendezvous,” Maloney picked up. Maloney continued to dictate what occurred during his mission only stopping when Falkirk prompted a more delicate way of phrasing something. “What if I don't want to be 'delicate'?” Maloney snapped.  
  
“Fine, 'I got ground into the dirt',” Falkirk said, writing down the quoted line.  
  
“The interrogation...” Maloney started and paused looking to the other Omega. “I was taken to a private room, Shan was waiting. I was secured to the bed, he...” Maloney trailed off.  
  
Falkirk thought about it for a moment, “Personal interrogation of a lingering nature,” Falkirk supplied getting a shaky nod in response. There were psychs to see operatives through these times and bad guys used any means to bring people down, man or woman, Alpha or Omega. There would be time for that but in this moment not calling something what it was let Maloney move on.  
  
Maloney composed himself again and continued, “After, Shan thought I was his and it would be safe to untie me. I smashed his head against the wall. Pulled the pin on a grenade and left it with him. Make that sound nice!” Maloney said, voice devoid of emotion.  
  
“Target's death required time and distance constraint,” Falkirk said as he wrote it down.  
  
Falling into silence Maloney grasped the side of the table looking intently at the grain of the wooden floor through the glass surface. The world started to spin, his stomach clenching and recoiling.  
  
Looking up to see why Maloney had fallen silent, Falkirk took in the green complexion and darted for a bowl, arriving just in time for Maloney to empty the contents of his stomach.  
  
Vague memories of his own experience of the disorientation and sickness came to Falkirk's mind. He stroked the Operative's back until he started to dry heave. When Maloney had finished for the moment Falkirk cleaned out the bowl.  
  
“M, I don't think I can move,” Maloney called, voice raspy and quiet.  
  
“Then for now, just sit,” Falkirk said softly.  
  
Opening the closet where he kept his nesting supplies Falkirk started building a nest in the utility room, his preferred nesting spot. He created the basic shell of a nest on the floor space at the far end, between the front of the dryer and the wall. Falkirk left more blankets and pillows for Maloney to arrange after he was in. Returning to the Operative Falkirk guided him to his feet, steadying the bulkier Omega with Maloney's arm across his shoulders and walked him to the utility room.  
  
“I don't want to nest,” Maloney demanded, seeing the small space his boss had prepared.  
  
“The big bad Operative doesn’t want to do something so Omega-ish?” Falkirk returned. “Well I'm heading for the nest but if you don't want to...” Falkirk trailed off knowing Maloney could not take an unguided step. Not the nicest ultimatum he had done but knowing the nest on the floor was the best place for his Operative.  
  
The room pitched and spun for the disorientated Omega as he looked back to the path he had taken. Unless he wanted to crawl he was stuck following his guide. Helping him to his knees Falkirk lay down with Maloney's head on his stomach. Pulling a few blankets around them and making sure the bowl was within easy reach Falkirk started stoking Maloney's back again.  
  
“No!” Maloney protested when Falkirk's hand started straying to his neck.  
  
“It was Alec who taught me how to make a nest,” Falkirk absently informed, pitching his voice soft and low to help the Omega relax and now avoiding the sensitive neck area.  
  
“He doesn’t have something to prove,” Maloney shot back.  
  
“He proves his worth with every mission, as do you,” Falkirk responded.  
  
“How long will I remain a Double O?”  
  
“Like everyone else, as long as you can do the job,” Falkirk replied, making his voice even softer and slower, “That's how James, Alec, Helmsley, Johnston, even I survived insubordination... sexism... assault... recklessness... committing acts of war... criminal acts...”  
  
Reluctantly the droning voice helped Maloney relax against Falkirk. Eventually Maloney started pulling blankets around them, Falkirk helping him, slowly cocooning himself around his boss. Feeling the Operative's breaths slow and deepen Falkirk relaxed as well.  
  
Getting close to dinner time and removing the IV pump, Falkirk extracted himself from the nest. He returned with some broth in a mug and let Maloney sip it down before he would replace the bag in the pump. Finishing his thin soup Maloney dutifully held out his arm for Falkirk to reattach the IV.  
  
Going to Alec's room Falkirk found an old pair of track suit trousers and t-shirt. In his own room Falkirk dressed in a pair of striped pyjamas. Making a quiet phone call, Falkirk arranged for relief in the morning. Retuning to Maloney Falkirk helped him change before settling down with the passive Omega.  
  
\--  
  
“Wakie, Wakie,” Alec called the next morning. Forcing his bleary eyes open Falkirk fumbled to pick up his glasses and put them on. Alec's bemused face came into sharp focus as he stood by the utility room door.  
  
Extracting himself from Maloney's grasp and the warm and comfortable nest Falkirk followed Alec into the kitchen. “He was bonded?” Alec asked as he made coffee.  
  
“Killed his own Alpha,” Falkirk stated neutrally, despite how the Operative's bonding occurred, the thought of an Omega killing their Alpha left Falkirk conflicted. Shaking off his thought, Maloney was his priority not his own hang-ups.  
  
“If he comes through it Maloney will be a bloody good Operative,” Alec said pouring out the percolated coffee.  
  
“Just, stay with him, be here, he might need to know he isn't alone,” Falkirk asked knowing this was the point where Maloney would walk forward in his career or walk away. Given what Falkirk had read and seen in the Operative, he suspected Maloney would walk forward so he would give him a place to lick his wounds safely, in peace and as privately as possible.  
  
Dressing for work Falkirk roused Maloney before he left warning him Alec was there. With an instruction to try and eat something solid Falkirk left the two Operatives to their own devices.  
  
Exiting the building Falkirk entered his waiting car and picked up one of the newspapers, 'King's aide in Escort Scandal' with a picture of Mycroft and a slim Alpha or Beta Male in his early twenties. Tossing the paper down Falkirk cradled his head.  
  
Trying to contact his brother throughout the day failed miserably. “Your Mother is on the phone,” Darren called through the intercom.  
  
He picked up the receiver, “I can't get a hold of Mycroft and I don't know what I can do,” Falkirk said before she could speak.  
  
“He is not returning my calls either.” Violet Holmes responded and if Falkirk heard correctly, panicked.  
  
“I'll find him,” Falkirk stated. “Thank you.”  
  
Pulling up his files on Mycroft, Falkirk started searching for bolt holes. Finding only one unaccounted withdrawal from Mycroft's accounts Falkirk traced the payment. Discovering a house at the end of the money trail, Falkirk noted down the address.  
  
Calling Selene, Falkirk changed and used the emergency Q branch entrance they escaped MI6. Dressed in hoodie Falkirk looked like a typical student moving through London with a grunge friend accompanying him. Going by tube and then over ground they ended up in Ashford. Following a taxi ride to a neighbouring street, Falkirk walked the short distance to the Avenue where a decent sized detached house stood quite far back from the road. Only the concealed cameras marked it out as different from its neighbours.  
  
Falkirk opened the gate and walked up the tree shadowed path. When ringing the bell produced nothing, he circled the house looking through the windows as he passed. Coming to the back of the building Falkirk looked in a window to a darkened lounge in the classic impersonal style of dark wooden floors, dark brown furniture and no ornamentation or knick-knacks. First thinking the lounge was empty he noticed a chair with its back to the window. Underneath and between the legs of the high, wing-back leather chair, the back of two highly polished shoes and trousers with crease you could shave with, could be seen.  
  
He knocked on the window but Mycroft didn't move to his brother's summons. Following the building around Falkirk found the back door and tried the handle. It didn't give so nodding to Selene he stepped back.  
  
Using the butt of her gun Selene tried smashing one of the panes near the handle, the gun bounced off the glass unscathed. Falkirk pulled Selene to a stop, if the glass was reinforced kicking the door in wouldn't likely work. Selene walked out onto the manicured lawn, “The window,” she said calling Falkirk's attention to the vulnerability.  
  
Using the drain pipe and a boost from Falkirk, Selene managed to reach the open window. With a quick sharp yank the latch gave way allowing her to climb through. Coming out of the bathroom into the attached bedroom Selene moved on, descending the stairs. She made for the back door, picking up a set of keys as she passed and eventually found the correct key, pulling the door open to allow Falkirk to enter.  
  
Falkirk moved into the house, through the kitchen and to the set of double doors he suspected Mycroft was behind and sliding them open.  
  
“I do hope you wiped your feet... Oh it's you,” Mycroft said as he looked to the intruder. “Of course, Sherlock wouldn't have needed to go to the back door after breaking in, Watson would have followed him through the window,” Mycroft said, tone self rebuking.  
  
“So you're just going to roll over, what about your Coup d’état, power, positions?” Falkirk demanded scenting the despondency from his brother.  
  
“What do you expect me to do? There is more than just me and the call boy. I told you going for Magnussen would mean we couldn't control his archive, you're not the only one who pieced parts of it together,” Mycroft demanded.  
  
Falkirk didn't know what his brother was still trying hide, “Tell me and I will see what I can do?”  
  
There was a snort from Mycroft, “No thank you.”  
  
“You are easily the smartest person I know, you just lack humility. Know your weaknesses every bit as well as your strengths. Start treating your enemies with respect instead of seeing them as inferior. Do that and something marvellous starts to happen, your opponents then aren't quite so insurmountable. You have friends and the Prime Minister has enemies, use them. If Urquhart wants to bring you into the public eye, use it, step into the limelight, _be_ the opposition the country needs.”  
  
The blue eyes flicked to him and there was a stunned hope in response to Falkirk's passionate words. Then the gears started turning and a slight twitch of an eye alerted Falkirk to his brother seeing a possibility in the chaos. “Good Luck, call if you need anything. I might not be able to help you but sometimes I might,” Falkirk said patting his brother on the shoulder.  
  
Coming out onto the pavement Falkirk drew the gate shut behind them. With improbable timing Sherlock pulled up in a taxi, Watson in tow. “We've already broken in, Mycroft has that gleam,” Falkirk warned stepping into the taxi.  
  
Thinking better of confronting Mycroft in one of his maniacal moods Sherlock ushered Watson back into the cab. By the time Falkirk made it back to MI6 everyone was packing up for the day. Mallory was perched on Darren's desk as Falkirk approached. Despite his cough Mallory didn't get his mate's subtle message about the person sneaking up from behind the Alpha.  
  
“Mr Mallory, flirting with my PA usually incurs my wrath,” Falkirk informed making the Alpha jump to face him. Walking past Mallory Falkirk entered his office.  
  
“Lucky I'm not under you command then,” Mallory responded, following.  
  
“I was wondering if you had heard from Mycroft Holmes?”  
  
“A wounded animal, unwise to approach,” Falkirk warned, as he started catching up on the work he had missed.  
  
“We need him,” Mallory insisted.  
  
“Then we will have to make sure he is down but not out,” Falkirk responded.  
  
Returning home Maloney had moved to the couch but was still wrapped in mounds of blankets. Placing a bag of containers on the counter, “The good stuff,” Alec purred as he helped Falkirk serve.  
  
Putting some salad and chicken on a plate Alec brought it to the recovering Operative. Plating up his fish and Alec's steak Falkirk brought them over while Alec returned for drinks, remembering Maloney couldn't have alcohol Alec returned with soft drinks all round.  
  
“When is Bond back?” Maloney asked voice still tired and soft.  
  
“Two week scheduled mission,” Alec responded.  
  
“By this point he is usually knot deep in some trollop and made little headway,” Falkirk added.  
  
“Oh please, he is positively chaste these days,” Alec shot back, knowing the length James went to avoid relations.  
  
“I suppose so,” Falkirk relented. A slight scrape pulled their attention to Maloney. His eyes closed, not even waking as Falkirk pried the plate from the other Omega's grasp.  
  
“He's been doing that all day,” Alec informed. “He tried the macho thing at first but considering he could barely stand...”  
  
Alec cleared up while Falkirk roused the sleeping Omega to replace his IV. With Alec's assistance they moved the nest to his old room and wrapped the Operative in it.  
  
“I'll be back tomorrow,” Alec informed, as he headed for the door.  
  
Seeing Alec out, “It's been good having you back,” Falkirk said just before Alec disappeared round the corner.  
  
\--  
  
Arriving at MI6 and after he had settled in Falkirk had Tanner call the Chief Medical Officer up. Outside of her element the Doctor was more accommodating as she sat in front of M and the Chief Of Staff. Doctor Ried was a brash opinionated Alpha with a God complex Falkirk's predecessor had to rein in regularly. She reminded Falkirk of a younger blond version of his Mother.  
  
“We have two Omega potentials joining us and if they are half as good as the first, I believe we will need a better support structure for them,” Falkirk stated.  
  
“We are not an equal opportunities employer, we cannot give special treatment,” Dr Ried dismissed.  
  
“Your budget disagrees, bonding inhibitors for Alphas are swallowed like sweets,” Falkirk stated.  
  
“Well we can't have Operatives with divided loyalties,” Dr Ried returned defensively.  
  
“I could not agree more,” Falkirk said pleasantly. “That is why I require an action plan. Preventing an Omega bonding, preventing an Omega's bond from breaking when confronted with the death of their Alpha and a full recovery strategy for when a bond does break”  
  
“Is this about Double O Nine?” Dr Ried demanded.  
  
“I have no idea what you are talking about Dr Ried,” Falkirk stated softly, making no attempt to make his lie convincing. The doctor dropped the issue, recognising a threat when it was directed towards her.  
  
“Have the initial outline on my desk tomorrow, I want the plan in place for the end of the potentials assessment period,” Falkirk ordered.  
  
At the end of the day Mallory arrived as he usually did but this time he was accompanied by Mycroft. Pouring his guests a drink Falkirk waited until they entered, “Should I be concerned?”  
  
Despite Mallory's reassurance, Mycroft's tight smile said otherwise.  
      
“Bourbon, very unexpected,” Mycroft said smelling the amber liquid.  
  
“My predecessor's influence,” Falkirk dismissed, leaving out that he wasn't too fond of it but was his preferred of the straight spirits.  
  
“I require a reference from someone the Prime Minister will respect,” Mycroft stated giving Mallory a dismissive glance. Mallory not offended that it was known the Prime Minister didn't respect his opinion.  
  
“Would it be presumptuous to ask what I’m recommending you for?” Falkirk asked.  
  
“An MI5 Analyst and Security Strategist tried to propose a unified Joint Intelligence Service encompassing MI5, MI6 and GCHQ, with private funding and support, and greater ties with foreign intelligence services. He didn't understand the xenophobic and insular mentality of the Prime Minister or the possessiveness of you. Ultimately everyone was either frightened to tell you or the Prime Minister about the proposal and the plans were vetoed. However, he did bring up some valid points. One point was the separation and inter agency posturing. MI5, GCHQ and the police answer to the Home Secretary. The Armed forces answer to the Defence Secretary and MI6 answers to the Foreign Secretary. Mallory as the Intelligence Minister liaises with the police, MI5, MI6, GCHQ and the various military intelligences. Urquhart has agreed that his position is to be raised creating a new Secretary of State for Intelligence and as such a new Civil service department is being created to support him and I wish to head it up”  
  
“I suppose that would make you my boss,” Falkirk purred dangerously to his brother.  
  
“I suppose...” Mallory stamped on Mycroft's foot stopping him wandering into the verbal trap. “It would only be a technicality and ultimately MI6 is still under the overview of the Foreign Office. We are just adding a new level of management and bureaucracy between you and the Foreign Secretary,” Mallory said.  
  
“Yes, just giving me that legitimate position within government. I would never dream of interfering in MI6 or MI5,” Mycroft added, catching on to Mallory's train of thought and how disastrous it could be to offend his little brother by trying to usurp or dominate him.  
  
“Urquhart will oppose Mycroft's appointment,” Mallory said.  
  
“C and Sir Carver, Head of the Civil Service have already given me their support,” Mycroft said.  
  
“Mallory still has pull with the Army chiefs and I have influence with Admiral Roebuck as well as...” Falkirk trailed off indicating the room around them to represent MI6.  
  
“That leaves the Air Force and the various Police branches,” Falkirk said.  
  
“Special Branch is a problem,” Mallory said with a sneer. “You're not surprised?”  
  
“Mr Corder and certain parts of the MET are aligned to the Prime Minister, possibly acting autonomously,” Falkirk informed. Pulling up something on his computer Falkirk sent the information to the glass wall to be displayed.  
  
“Sgt. Donovan?” Mycroft deduced as lists of suspicious police activity started scrolling on the wall that separated them from the rest of E Branch.  
  
“If they won't support us freely they can choose who can do them the most damage,” Falkirk said indicating the police officers being displayed and ignoring Mycroft's speculation of the MI6 agent in the police.  
  
Falkirk was breaking his pact with Urquhart but he didn't want to give his brother another blow and it would keep Urquhart occupied.  
  
Darren’s knock on the door interrupted the group. Pushing the door open, “Double O Seven is back, Q has cleared him and wants to know what he is to tell Bond,” Darren informed.  
  
“Have James come up,” Falkirk ordered.  
  
By the time James entered the Executive Branch Falkirk was showing his guest out. James and Mallory gave a tight greeting as they passed each other. Mallory growling at his Omega's pleasant greeting of the other Alpha.  
  
Falkirk escorted James into his office where he took a guest chair, sitting casually but no longer disrespectful of his superior.  
  
“Daniel was cagey when I wanted to go home,” James accused.  
  
Knowing his Alpha was still on edge from his mission and the separation from the balancing influence of his Omega Falkirk decided to tell him the truth, “Double O Nine is recovering under the care of Alec and myself.”  
  
Pouring a glass for James Falkirk could see his Alpha's' curiosity but he didn't elaborate further.  
  
“I'll go to a Hotel,” James offered taking the bourbon.  
  
“Thank you,” Falkirk said.  
  
“Perhaps I could get Alec to stay the night,” Falkirk offered.  
  
“Perhaps,” James responded with a relieved smile.  
  
“I was thinking, there is nothing foreseen over my...” Falkirk started before James' rumbling growl interrupted him.  
  
“Yes.”  
  



	10. Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks to the readers, commenter and those who left kudos.

Laid back, the warm solid chest behind him, his Alpha's arm circling under his and the tanned hand resting on Falkirk's paler chest. A sudden desire and Falkirk pulled away getting a grumble from the Alpha. Rocking forward onto his knees, James gave a purr as the Omega's hind was briefly presented as Falkirk snatched the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket at the bottom of the bed and brought it back up. Filling the glasses and placing a strawberry in the flute he then reclined against James. The Alpha again circling a possessive arm around the Omega and kissing the wild hair as the Omega rested his head against James' shoulder.  
  
The room was nice and reminded Falkirk of the time they first bonded in New York. The dark furniture, plush cream carpets, the professional, impersonal and stylish indulgence of the 5 Star room.  
  
“Apparently the gossip says I'm having a torrid affair. I have been spotted going into a hotel everyday this week. Foreign agents have even been put on a stakeout to spot me and the mystery Alpha,” Falkirk mused, sipping the chilled wine.  
  
“An 'affair' how could you? I'm very jealous Alpha, I'll rip off the knot of anyone who touches my Omega,” James teased.  
  
Reaching down, through the patch of wiry hair and skimming the looser skin where the aforementioned knot would swell, tying them together, Falkirk mused, “Please don't, I'm often quite attached to the Alpha's knot.”  
  
James forced a bit of a chuckle at the weak joke and banter, appreciating how his Omega was trying to lighten the mood of his forced exile from his own home. “When's your heat?”  
  
Falkirk sipped the champagne in one hand, the other gently playing with his Alpha's spent organ and basking in the naked and warm chest pressing to his bare back, “Late February.”  
  
Seeing the Omega finish the drink James plucked the glass from his grasp, “Hey!” Falkirk squeaked as the Champagne infused strawberry was stolen from him. The Alpha tipped the Strawberry from the glass into his mouth, catching the fruit in his teeth and showing it to the cutely frowning Omega.  
  
Catching on Falkirk rolled over, leaned in to the Alpha and took the strawberry from between the teeth of his mate. Swallowing he leaned in again to share a kiss with the Alpha, tasting the champagne, strawberries and chocolate they had been indulging in all evening.  
  
\--  
  
Falkirk and Alec watched as Maloney moved about the flat. He would be on the medication for a few weeks more, however as his bond faded the dose could be lowered and his equilibrium would return along with his appetite. “The Doctor said an Omega recovers quickly from prolonged inactivity and lower calorie intake but you still need time to recover you fitness,” Falkirk said.  
  
“One benefit of heats,” Maloney shot back, pacing until his legs started to fatigue then sitting on the couch.  
  
“Bond's back?” Maloney stated looking to his boss, the longer absences, the subtle lightening of the harder personality and slightly stronger scent making the question all but superfluous. When M nodded in response Maloney continued, “I will go home.”  
  
“On two conditions - Alec will visit in the mornings and I will visit at night,” Falkirk said, knowing when a Double O made up their mind no matter the reason there was no point in dissuading them.  
  
\--  
  
Lazing in bed Falkirk read the morning papers. A rag declared 'Mycroft Resigns to protect King' as a reputable broad sheet carried an interview with the 'Escort who brought down King's aid'. Falkirk had a tinge of worry until he read the articles, both were masterpieces of spin. The articles were a damning indictment of the Prime Minister. “Good work,” Falkirk said, talking about his brother's opening salvo against the PM.  
  
James walked in carrying a tray, placing it across Falkirk’s lap. He noticed an open letter propped up against the mug and picked it up, curious as to why James would open something addressed to him. He realised it wasn't addressed to him it but to James. “I was going to tell you.”  
  
“I hated that bloody place and now you're rebuilding it,” James growled in response.  
  
“Your Aunt paid a visit,” Falkirk started before James' angry glare and a growl at the mention of his Aunt interrupted him. Pressing on, “Daniel is the same, to turn your back on generations of history. What about, if we...” Falkirk trailed of avoiding the mention of children.  
  
“Do what you want,” James growled walking out.  
   
Looking at the tray, his appetite gone Falkirk stood to go wash and dress. Without the need to be smart Falkirk dressed in muted tartan trousers and his favourite grey cardigan. He rode the lift to the bottom of the building and exited in the garage. Getting behind the wheel Falkirk had to remember where everything was as he had not driven in several months by now.  
  
Placing his phone in the cradled Falkirk started following the spoken directions and pulled out onto the street, a horn blast reminding him there were others on the road. Well outside of London Falkirk saw James' rebuilt Aston Martin in the car park of a country pub. “You have arrived at your destination,” the mechanical voice said from Falkirk's phone.  
  
Falkirk got out and headed to the thatched pub's entrance. Looking over the dim interior he couldn't see his wayward mate anywhere. His heat couldn't come quickly enough for Falkirk, they had not spent a heat together since before James' death and the strain was starting to show, especially on the Alpha this time.  
  
Going back out and seeing a path around and beyond the pub Falkirk decided to follow it, coming to a river bank, a tow path going up and down river. Falkirk looked in both directions unable to see his mate. The GPS was no help as it kept pointing to James' car which was still at the pub. Something about how obstinate it would feel going against the current seemed to remind Falkirk of his Alpha so he started walking up stream.  
  
The river ran gentle and bubbling over the rocks. The late winter day was bright, clear and cold. Apart from a few evergreens, the overhanging trees were bare. Falkirk followed the compacted path eventually spotting his mate sitting on a boulder on the gently sloping bank where a dyke had made an area of calmer water. A sudden flail of an arm and a stone skimmed four times before sinking.  
  
Deciding not to approach Falkirk moved to the tree line and crouched down with his back against the trunk. His mate was never one for dealing well with his own emotions. Falkirk watched as his Alpha processes his feelings.  
  
He thought over is interaction with Charmian Bond, not a completely unpleasant woman. She didn't remember Falkirk from the one chance meeting they had and he didn't remind her. Surprised to see a mate she was pleasant and courteous, giving stories of James' father and her time at Skyfall. Andrew and herself hated Skyfall as children but loved the hunting when the extended family would gather. She even admitted to not treating James as she should have but becoming guardian of an adolescent Alpha Male when she herself was only eighteen was overwhelming, she even signed custody over to Kincade and others for a time. Some of James' stories had supported Charmian's assessment. Even Falkirk, Daniel and Mansfield could barely control James at times so he could not blame James' aunt for failing.  
  
When Falkirk spoke about the visit to Daniel he described growing up in an isolated castle by the sea, admitting he would like nothing more than to see it swept into the North Atlantic. Daniel also explained his family had been in residence since before there was a United Kingdom, almost before there was a unified Scotland.  
  
It seemed wrong for such history to be lost even in the Bond family's shorter time at Skyfall. It still went back generations and in Falkirk's secret desire it would continue for generations more.  
  
“Earth to Falkirk,” James' voice finally broke into Falkirk's awareness. “Oh you're finished skimming stones,” Falkirk observed looking to his Alpha towering over him.  
  
“Yes,” James replied, extending his hands to the seated Omega. Pulling Falkirk to his feet James wrapped an arm around his Omega's waist.  
  
Falkirk dislodged the arm and guided James' hand to his neck where the Alpha applied a possessive pressure. Technically he was being scruffed but Falkirk was enjoying the dominance James was offering. Guided by the Alpha along the foot path, they came to the path that would take them back to the pub. Falkirk waited patiently for his Alpha to decide what direction he wanted to go.  
  
“Lunch I think,” James announced leading Falkirk to the pub. Having seated Falkirk at a table James walked up to the bar to order. Returning with a couple of ales they sat in silence waiting for their food. After the simple pub lunch James guided his Omega out. As James looked between the two cars Falkirk broke his submissive stance, “I can have someone collect the car.”  
  
With a soft growl James guided Falkirk to his car, opened the door helping Falkirk into the Aston Martin and closed the door behind him. Coming round James got in behind the wheel. Fixing Falkirk with a look, James stilled, the last time an M sat in the passenger seat it didn't end well.  
  
James started the engine and pulled out of the pub, driving to the end of the village. Stopping, James turned his attention to Falkirk again before turning the corner and driving off. It took Falkirk some time to notice they were not headed to London. Trusting his Alpha Falkirk let him drive wherever he wanted to take them.  
  
After hours of driving James pulled to a stop and after eating and stretching their legs the journey continued. Eventually Falkirk dozed off to the rhythmic rumble of tires on tarmac.  
  
When Falkirk woke up he was cold and he was being stroked. A flimsy blanket covered him as James caressed the Omega's neck. Peering through the mist Falkirk wasn't surprised to see the burnt out shell of Skyfall Lodge. Skips and a digger had not even made a dent in the debris. The helicopter had been cleared up quickly along with the Aston Martin as they contained munitions not available to the public.  
  
Seeing Falkirk wake James detached himself from the Omega. Leading Falkirk around the building James told him of the battle they’d raged. Pointing to the burned out crater, “The helipad,” James said trying to lighten the mood. Taking Falkirk's hand James described the chase across the moors to the Church. Falkirk knew all of it, he’d read the reports and even watched some of it from a satellite. This was the first time James spoke to him about the events in a non professional manner and Falkirk let him.  
  
Leading Falkirk into the church James didn't spare his parents graves a single glance. Several darkened stains still marked the stone floor. James didn't say anything just looked for a moment before moving on. “Could I have a moment?” James asked quietly and moved off before Falkirk could answer.  
  
Deciding to follow James' path on the night of the attack Falkirk skirted the small loch picking up where he thought James started his short cut across it. Looking about him Falkirk didn't see his foot getting caught until he met face first with the ground. Swearing, he moved to untangle himself from the branch, picking up a piece of rusted metal. He realised it was a gun. Inspecting the weapon Falkirk noticed an inlay, a monogrammed shield on the butt. Scraping away the rust an inscription appeared, 'A.B.'  
  
“Are you alright?” James called loping up to his fallen mate.  
  
“Fine James,” Falkirk returned pushing himself up, bringing up the gun with him. James gently pried it from Falkirk's grasp. “Ruined,” James said absently, about to drop the gun.  
  
“No it's not,” Falkirk hesitantly protested, wary of pushing James when he was haunted by the setting.  
  
“Why must you insist on..?” James trailed off shaking his head, “Not everything can be fixed.”  
  
“I know, but if something can be fixed it shouldn't just be discarded,” Falkirk argued softly. With a growl, James thrust the gun back at the Omega making him sway with the force and marched back. Falkirk was left holding the gun, unsure if it was a good idea to bring it or not. Following his first instinct Falkirk followed his troubled Alpha, keeping hold of the gun.  
  
The journey back down occurred in silence. Eventually James pulled in to the pub they had stopped at the day before. Instructing Falkirk to drive back in his own car James waited until his mate pulled away and followed the BMW, pulling into the parking garage beside his mate.  
  
James approached his mate who still held his father's gun, “Do what you want but Skyfall was nothing to me before, is nothing to me now and will always be nothing to me.”  
  
Falkirk could see the lie James was telling himself. The Alpha was forcing himself to go forward because he couldn't bear to look back. “You will not hear about it again,” Falkirk promised.  
   
\--  
  
“Double O Nine, your fitness scores are improved as is your marksmanship,” Falkirk observed as the Operative in question entered his office.  
  
“Plenty of time for the gym and the range, M,” Maloney responded.  
  
Waving a hand at an empty chair, Falkirk waited for the operative to sit before handing over a mission brief. After reading the document the Operative’s curiosity grew as did his resentment. “Are you going easy on me?” Maloney asked sceptically, wondering why he was being sent to investigate an abandoned villa.  
  
“Double O Nine, this is not a game. You will treat every assignment with the respect and diligence it deserves,” Falkirk snapped harshly before lowering his voice and making it soft and cold, “Or you will end up dead, or worse vanished with no one knowing anything about you.”  
  
“Yes, M,” Maloney snapped back straightening at the rebuke and the reminder of what happened to his teacher and predecessor who just went out for an assassination mission.  
  
“You leave tonight, dismissed,” Falkirk snapped.  
  



	11. 009

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, internet problems in my area at the moment. This is going up quickly, between internet outages. I wish I had better mobile broadband so I could read at least. 
> 
> All the usual thanks and Merry (belated)Christmas

With James on a training assignment, putting the next generation of hopefuls through their paces, Falkirk pushed through his day's work. Picking up the rifle that had been sitting in the corner of his office for days, he went to the armoury.  
  
Falkirk nodded to the receptionist and headed for the workshop at the back. The Armoury Chief, Smith a new employee was working away when Falkirk entered and span to look at the intruder, “Who are you?” Smith demanded.  
  
“M” Falkirk replied simply and going over to a series of cabinets he knew Smith didn't have access to, ready to punch in the code on the biometric panel of the glass fronted cabinet that would cross reference his fingerprints along with the code he entered.  
  
“Yeah right! Fuck off Boi, before you get into trouble.”  
  
Falkirk's heart sank, he was young and an Omega but he hoped there would be one day a complete stranger wouldn't need a demonstration. At least Falkirk now supported Daniel's move to start the official process and fire Smith. “The phrase you are looking for is 'May I inspect you Identification', failing to observe proper security protocol for an unknown person. Improper attitude when interacting with a colleague,” Falkirk said, tutting as he shook his head. “Suspended until further notice. You and Q will be in my office first thing tomorrow”  
  
Going to the door and calling in a guard to escort Smith out of Q Branch, Falkirk couldn't remember what the forgettable and arrogant Alpha looked like the moment he was out of his sight. When he was alone Falkirk checked on the active requisition orders, spending a couple of hours fulfilling the requirements for the upcoming missions. A task he had done day in and day out when he was under Daniel's tutelage.  
  
When the remaining tasks had been finished, Falkirk turned his attention to James' Anderson Wheele. He removed his jacket, waist coat and shirt leaving him standing in his trousers with braces hanging down, white vest and round safety goggles. Dismantling the gun, clamping the long barrel onto a vice Falkirk started by removing the outer layers of rust.  
  
When Darren burst in Falkirk noticed the light on top of the desk phone was blinking. He pulled off his ear defenders and kept on the round prescription safety goggles.  
  
“Double O Nine has shot a French diplomat,” Darren informed.  
  
“Is Maloney in contact?” Falkirk asked casually getting a shake of the head in response, “Trace his cards and known Ids. Contact me when he reports in or we have a location.”  
  
Darren ran off to comply while Falkirk tidied up, placing the gun's components into Daniel's private locker along with his goggles. Closing the door the glass fronted cabinet locked automatically.  
  
Heading back up to E Branch, Darren with his mate hot on his heels met Falkirk as he stepped off the lift. “Foreign Secretary making demands,” Falkirk deduced for their mutual panic.  
  
“The PM, Ambassador, the French President,” Mallory hissed, stressing about the situation.  
  
Entering E Branch Tanner informed Falkirk they had tracked Maloney to Monaco. Giving instructions to get them there along with a tactical squad Falkirk rounded on the politician.  
  
“Tell everyone we are investigating without fear or favour and the truth will out. Oh and I'm borrowing your Mate,” Falkirk stated, leaving no room for argument. It was time to step up Darren's responsibility; Tanner couldn't do everything, it was time Darren learned to take some of the load.  
  
Falkirk looked to the other Omega rattling off, “I want to know where Maloney is staying, who he may be with and why he is there?”  
  
“Yes, M,” Darren responded darting out of the office.  
  
“You cannot take him,” Mallory growled quietly.  
  
“It's a charade. We go out there, give the Operative into trouble and pat him on the head before sending him off. The politicians are happy, the Operative is chastised. It has been done since the first Double O and my predecessor was a master at it,” Falkirk dismissed the Alpha's concern for his mate.  
  
“Keep him safe,” Mallory growled.  
  
“Always,” Falkirk assured.  
  
\--  
  
In the end it was a private jet Tanner requisitioned for the trip. The six guards along with Selene, Falkirk, Tanner and Darren in the long narrow cabin.  
  
Giggling, “You really don't like flying,” Darren said to his distressed boss.  
  
“I just got used to the big ones now I'm in this conveniently coffin-sized death trap,” Falkirk responded clinging to Selene's arm. The familiar Alpha then moved to hug him close.  
  
When someone sniggered from the back Falkirk swung to look behind them. “If you don't know my real name you're not allowed to comment,” Falkirk snapped and turned back.  
  
“Thomas McLair,” one of the cockier squaddies answered.  
  
“Wrong! And you have just earned everyone an extra long cold weather training,” Falkirk snapped.  
  
The group of squaddies let out a groan, a few grumbling at the one who spoke out and at their merciless boss. The training was an annual requirement, in Norway they trained in the harsh winter conditions and everyone hated it. It was all banter to lighten the mood because no matter how routine or safe the country, ultimately they could be walking to their death.  
  
Falkirk led the group into the opulent polished marble lobby of the three storey white  building with balconies interspersed with pillars. Looking up, a glass dome in the ceiling let in natural Mediterranean light. The grand staircase wrapped around the space to the upper floor. There was no lift Falkirk could see and behind the reception, the stairs divided the lobby from the bar and restaurant.  
  
A rather handsome Alpha male, in custom suit, with the hotel's crest worn as a pin, hurriedly approached group. “The manager, Yves Carridine,” Darren informed, before Selene judged the focused man as a possible threat and shot him.  
  
With intelligence and experience the Alpha approached the central figure of the group. “Welcome to the Hotel Hermitage,” Carridine greeted professionally, with a drawling French accent. “Per your instructions we have not alerted the guest to your arrival.”  
  
“The Suite,” Falkirk commanded. Leading the way, the manager ascended the stairs to the first floor. “I am informed, Monsieur Jax Teller arrived a short time ago,” Carridine said coming to a stop at a door. He was using Jax Teller for Maloney, like James uses Richard Sterling or Falkirk uses Thomas McLair  
  
Taking the key from his grasp, Falkirk slid it into the lock and pushed the doors open. The pristine sitting room of the suite was devoid of any Operative as was the bedroom. “M, Alphas, Male, two of them and a Beta male,” Darren called from the seating area.  
  
Coming over Falkirk couldn't quite scent three but he could make out the lingering two Alpha scents. “The ones there and there were afraid and excited,” Darren informed pointing to the two ends of the couch.  
  
Moving about the room Falkirk scented the bedroom but only Maloney's subtle Omega hung in the air and clung to the fabrics. Passing the balcony door he flicked the blinds, looking across the square he saw a familiar person and two thugs dragging an unconscious third.  
  
Running to the door, Falkirk yanked the SMG out of the guard's grip and shouting what was happening, vaulted the banister to land on the stairs. Selene landed in front of Falkirk running on ahead to help the Operative.  
  
Coming to the entrance Falkirk slid to one knee, exhaling he held his breath took aim, carefully avoiding Selene and fired three times in quick succession. The Beta in charge, getting in the back door of the car crumpled to the ground grabbing his destroyed knee. The rest of Falkirk's shots targeted the front tyre and the engine compartment. The car's engine ground and died, preventing it fleeing.  
  
Selene took out the driver and the passenger, the wounds instantly fatal. Securing the lead Beta she disarmed him.  
  
Falkirk arrived on scene calling to Tanner and picking two of the guards at random, “Get him to the plane, do _not_ stop and do _not >_ wait for us. No one speaks to him before me.”  
  
Grabbing the secured Beta the guards and Tanner hauled him off before the police arrived. Falkirk walked to the back of the car. Popping the boot Falkirk didn't quite manage to avoid the kick, the impact connecting with his shoulder sending him falling back and landing on his arse. Looking up to Maloney's shocked face poking out of the boot, “And you thought I was going easy on you,” Falkirk shot. Selene helped him to his feet as Darren moved to pull the tape from Maloney's mouth, hands and feet.  
  
The sound of the high pitched nee-naw announced the impending arrival of the police. “This isn't going to be fun,” Darren complained at the growing noise.  
  
“Run for it?” Maloney asked but Falkirk was already on the phone with the consulate and police chief.  
  
Pulling out his ID Falkirk held it aloft as the police pulled to a stop. Having been informed, the Police still approached him cautiously, keeping their weapons trained on the group. Confirming they were the British Intelligence that they had been informed of the officer relaxed slightly. Turning over the scene to the local police Falkirk and the group headed back to the hotel to wait.  
  
The Police Chief arrived with the British Ambassador demanding answers. “Witnesses report someone was removed from the scene,” the Chief accused.  
  
Having previously checked in with Tanner, the jet was put under fighter escort into British airspace. Falkirk checked his watch, by now the plane should be in the safe zone. “Have you ever heard of The Merovingian?” Falkirk stated looking to the Police Chief. The Alpha gave denials, Falkirk could scent the change in the man, indicating he was scared of something, Falkirk suspecting he was lying.  
  
“The Merovingian is currently in the top five of every country's most wanted lists. We apprehended him here, we will not be giving him back,” Falkirk informed.  
  
“Our plane is ready,” Darren said coming up to his boss.  
  
\--  
  
Arriving back in London and stepping off the private jet he was met by the waiting Prime Minister, Foreign Secretary and Mallory on the tarmac. The Prime Minister's cold gaze held Falkirk, in the man's hand was a paper. “Have you seen the early edition?” Urquhart challenged handing over a copy of the paper.  
  
A CCTV image of Falkirk on one knee holding the UMP, taking aim. 'MI6 Director in Extraordinary Rendition Scandal' printed above the picture. Unlike America, Britain was a signatory to the intentional courts and was liable for the illegal, state sponsored kidnapping. Falkirk knew the PM didn't really care and was just annoyed that he'd been photographed conducting the Extraordinary Rendition, and the politician was now getting flak for what was a crime against humanity.  
  
“If you wish to accompany me I will discuss this matter,” Falkirk said to the PM.  
  
Turning his attention to Darren, “Inform Tanner of our arrival and get him to gather the home services and foreign representatives,” Falkirk ordered.  
  
“Your car or mine?” Falkirk asked returning his attention to the PM. “Mine of course,” Urquhart responded guiding Falkirk to the waiting ministerial car.  
  
The Prime Minister listened intently to the information Falkirk conveyed. “So getting this Merovingian is quite a coup for Britain,” Urquhart asked.  
  
Nodding, “It has been long suspected that French officials have been protecting The Merovingian. With the number of countries that want him I doubt the French will be very vocal in their protests over his arrest. Also, considering we apprehended The Merovingian in Monaco, it gives France deniability.” Falkirk fell silent, letting the PM make up his own plans for political benefits.  
  
Falkirk spent most of the day in meetings with MI5, CIA, Interpol and various other organisations as everyone wanted a chance to question the prisoner. Keeping the group on their toes, Falkirk was adamant that they could have what was left of the man.  
  
-  
  
Walking into the medical wing, Falkirk could hear a heavy French accent. The Merovingian trying to bribe anyone who would listen. “Millions, a new life, riches, Women, Bois, all for you, you just have to get me out.”  
  
Pulling back the curtain hiding The Merovingian from view, “What's the point of having millions when I will just seize it and shoot the traitor,” Falkirk stated.  
  
The dark haired Beta gave a condescending smile and dismissed Falkirk, continuing to speak to the guard who stood ramrod straight and unmoving, not even indicating he could hear the man trying to bribe him. “Dismissed,” Falkirk ordered and the guard moved to the other side of the curtain.  
  
“My friend, last seen in your care,” Falkirk stated placing a photo on the bound Beta's lap.  
  
“I have never seen him,” came the drawled French voice. The Beta, tensing as Falkirk's hand hovered over the barely saved knee joint, “Are you sure?”  
  
When the French man remained steadfast, Falkirk let his hand drop. When the Merovingian only growled Falkirk lifted his hand disappointed with such a minor reaction. Pulling the prisoner's chart from the bottom of the bed. “Morphine.” Falkirk read as he shook his head.  
  
“I will have to come back when it has worn off,” Falkirk stated and walked out giving orders to transfer The Merovingian to a holding cell and cease all pain control. The Doctor suspected what was going to happen but didn't protest as she usually did with Falkirk's orders.  
  
Returning home Falkirk was greeted to the sight of his Alpha, one hand inside of his open fly the other holding a copy of the day's paper. “Wouldn't the real thing be more fun?” Falkirk purred, kicking the door closed and putting more of a sway in his hips, walking the length of the flat to the chair where his Alpha was.  
  
Looking to his Omega James growled appreciatively, “Always.”  
  
Falkirk's phone ringing roused him in the middle of the night. Blindly grabbing for the screeching device, James gave a disgruntled growl beside him as Falkirk answered.  
  
“What?” Falkirk snapped. “The Merovingian wants to make a deal,” Tanner informed, ending in a yawn.  
  
“I'm coming in,” Falkirk said.  
  
“I'll arrange for the car and Selene...”  
  
 “I'm sure James will drive me,” Falkirk said, interrupting Tanner and getting another annoyed grunt from beside him.  
  
When Falkirk had washed and dressed he met James by the door. The Alpha, took a subtle scenting, “You're still carrying my scent.”  
  
Shrugging, “Most people know and those that don't I, we can handle,” Falkirk responded. “If you want I can...'' Falkirk continued, indicating the bathroom where he could remove the scent.  
  
“No.”  
  
Arriving at MI6 Falkirk and James headed directly to the brig. Tanner waited outside, pained sounds resonated down the corridors. Walking to the source of the sound, Falkirk entered the cell. The Merovingian restrained to the cot, writhed, his moaning intermingled with little cries of pain every time his knee moved.  
  
Perching beside him Falkirk held up Helmsley's photo in the prisoner's line of sight. “What happened to him?” Falkirk demanded. When the Merovingian didn't respond Falkirk gripped the man mid thigh. Slowly Falkirk stroked down until The Merovingian was screaming. “WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?” Falkirk shouted.  
  
“Enemies, one eyed, paid, high price,” The Merovingian wheezed.  
  
“Who?” Falkirk demanded giving a squeeze just above the knee for good measure. A string of French issued that James translated, “Do not know, an agent and negotiable bearer bonds.”  
  
“Who has the bonds now, any of them?” Falkirk demanded. Getting a few names, Falkirk allowed the Merovingian to be returned to medical.  
  
Giving his instructions to Tanner and an investigation into the names began. Tracing Bearer Bonds was a difficult thing, however sometimes, like bank notes they could turn something up if luck was on their side.  
  
After Maloney had debriefed he came to Falkirk's office. The Omega was considerably more relaxed than the last time he sat in front of Falkirk after a mission.  
  
These meetings where just a chance for M to query aspects of an Operatives conduct. With Maloney explaining everything and Falkirk not picking up anything suspicious in his report, it was just a formality.  
  
“Well I'm satisfied, do you have anything to add?” Falkirk said absently.  
  
“Nice shot, M.”  
  
“Dismissed,” Falkirk ordered with a pleased smile shooing the Operative out of his office.  
  
Deciding he had some free time since he had been here since before dawn, Falkirk headed to the PT Branch watching James run a group of recruit to exhaustion. Noticing M the Double O, called the group into a semblance of order, they stood puffing and panting.  
  
“Double O Seven, are these the best of this year's intake?” Falkirk demanded.  
  
“Yes M,” James responded, standing straighter at the arrival of M.  
  
“You lot,” James called to get the groups attention, “This is M. You're not likely to meet him on your own merit.”  
  
Giving Falkirk a wink, “Time to prove yourself,” James snapped at one of the larger Alphas who had come through the warm up better than most. “Forward, RUN!” James shouted. The Alpha didn't even hesitate, he ran flat out, straight forward right into a wall.  
  
“One down, twelve to go,” Falkirk stated, shaking his head at the training methods of the military. “ _Blind_ obedience will be your end here and will never be tolerated. You will be in situations where you might have to choose between an order and a goal, get it right and you will go far, get it wrong badly enough and I will shoot you myself, just ask about the legend of Moneypenny.”  
  
Returning to E Branch Falkirk headed to the break room. Ignoring the discomfort of the office workers gossiping, Falkirk pulled open the cupboard with an 'M' on it. Going through the methodical process of making a pot of tea, as the tea steeped, Falkirk looked for something to snack on and came up empty.  
  
Taking the tea pot and a china cup and saucer to his office he stopped at Darren's desk “Could you go get a blueberry muffin please?” Falkirk asked his PA.  
  
“Sure,” Darren responded taking some money from the petty cash. “And a pecan Danish, and something chocolaty,” Falkirk added. Darren looked to his boss before giving a cheeky grin.  
  
On the second cup, Darren entered Falkirk's office placing an array of food stuff down. “I didn't ask for all of this,” Falkirk said.  
  
“You need to build up your reserves,” Darren shot back, his teasing smile returning. “Oh bugger off,” Falkirk snapped petulantly, ripping the bag of muffins open and taking the first of the small cakes.  
  
Falkirk's hand hit the bottom of the bag. Looking about his desk and the floor, he looked to the empty bag sceptically, sure he must have dropped some. There were six muffins in there and now they seemed to have all gone. “Gareth and the Foreign Secretary are here.” Darren's voice sounded over the intercom.  
   
Deciding to make a fresh pot of tea Falkirk took the snacks to the break room. Laying another two cups on a tray and a plate of biscuits, he returned to his office just before Darren showed the guests into E branch.  
  
He poured the tea and let his guests help themselves to sugar and milk. “The information the Merovingian can provide is less important to both MI5 and us than removing him from his position. The Central Prosecution Service inform me there is enough evidence for a life sentence,” Falkirk said, sitting back taking a couple of biscuits with him. Perching the biscuits on the side of his saucer Falkirk crossed his legs and balanced the saucer on his crossed knee.  
  
“With America, Germany, Russia, China and a host of others wanting him, If the PM wants to make a grand gesture I see no problem and I am willing to take direction in regards to the fate of The Merovingian,” Falkirk summed up.  
  
“I am sure the PM will be appreciative,” Mallory responded.  
  
“Very appreciative,” The Foreign Secretary said with a dismissive edge to his tone, “If that is all, M?” Placing his untouched tea back on Falkirk's desk and with limited pleasantries the Foreign Secretary marched out of Falkirk's office.  
  
“He's next in line, fallen from Urquhart's good graces,” Mallory informed as they watched Darren escort the Foreign Secretary out. “I doubt he will survive the week, he will definitely be gone before the election. I don't suppose you have something stronger?”  
  
Pulling the decanter and a glass Falkirk set it in front of the Alpha before pouring himself another cup of tea. “If it wasn't for you I would have been out on my ear a while ago. I'm not sure if I should be thankful or angry,” Mallory mused.  
  
\--  
  
Sitting at the dining table while James moved about the kitchen, Falkirk read the paper. There was criticism, Urquhart was not going to allow the Merovingian to be tried internationally. Lines about showing no mercy to Britain's enemies by Urquhart sympathisers, beside criticism of the government by the only opposition, the King calling for everyone to work together for a safer more just world.  
  
“Mallory and Mycroft think he is going to call a snap election,” Falkirk said absently, not expecting James to respond. Never one for politics James just liked to be given a goal and to achieve it.  
  
“Why don't you just bring him down,” James said coming over with a plate of scrambled eggs and toast.  
  
“Because you and I have done things just as bad,” Falkirk argued piling some eggs onto a toast soldier and eating it.  
  
Continuing to read Falkirk didn't notice James coming up behind him until a soft growl sounded. Nuzzling Falkirk's neck and giving a soft bite, his scent was subtly shifting with the oncoming heat. “I like you like this,” James rumbled, stroking Falkirk's softer belly.  
  
“Well don't get used to it, a week of fucking and no food will slim me down again,” Falkirk shot back before scraping the last of the egg off his plate. “More please, a bit more cheese this time,” Falkirk asked handing James his plate.  
  
Sitting against his Alpha as they watched a movie, Falkirk looked at his arm as he ran his fingers up and down his skin. “I think it's starting,” Falkirk said feeing the increased sensitivity to the touch.  
  
“I know,” James responded leaning down and breathing in the heady scent of is mate's oncoming heat. The scent had kept him at half mast all day. Only knowing how sore his mate would be after his heat kept James from jumping him.  
  
“This will be the anniversary of our first heat,” Falkirk observed absently before a set of teeth clamped over the scarred and bruised skin of his bond mark.  
  
As with most of Falkirk's heats they came on during the night. James woke to the feel of his Omega grinding against him. The instinct of 'mine' swam in the Alpha as he rolled over his mate and mounted him unceremoniously, to a guttural wail of desire from the Omega.  
  
\--  
  
Walking into the armoury on the first night after James had left on a mission “What are you doing here?” Falkirk asked casually.  
  
“That bastard handed in his resignation,” Daniel growled. “He offered to work out his notice, I kicked his arse from here to the front door.”  
  
Falkirk chuckled, Daniel continued to grumble and complain. Falkirk stripped off his suit jacket, waistcoat and shirt. Pulling out James' rifle Falkirk continued his restorative work.  
  
“I don't suppose that wee thing upstairs wants the job?” Daniel asked.  
  
“No. Darren...”  
  
“I was taking about Ms Corvin,” Daniel interrupted.  
  
“No!” Falkirk snapped unwilling to be separated from his guardian angel. Hesitantly Falkirk continued after a few minutes, “Johnston may be open though.”  
  
At Daniel's curious look Falkirk continued, “He is the oldest Double O and his fitness is slipping.”  
  
“I will broach the subject,” Daniel responded.  
  
After Daniel had finished with the requisitions and tests he offered to help Falkirk. Pulling out a stool before Falkirk could answer indicated he knew the answer would be a polite no. He just kept the other man company while he worked.  
  
\--  
  
When 001 returned from his mission, much to Falkirk's relief he took the job as Armoury Chief. At the first end to a Double O's career not resulting in their name being carved on the memorial wall, Falkirk gladly acted as referee for the ex Operative's appointment to Q branch.  
  
When Falkirk visited the Armoury, Potts, a good administrator but who knew nothing of firearms, was showing Johnston about. The only problem with Johnston, he wasn’t an engineer so the specials occasionally required by the Operatives would still need Daniel or Falkirk's overview.  
  
When Johnston's tour came to an end Falkirk knocked on his new office. Standard IKEA quality furniture had been placed temporarily about the room. “Settling in?” Falkirk asked.  
  
“To much bloody paper work” Johnston complained poking a mound sitting on the tiny desk.  
  
“Yes, a paperless office is the dream of those who wish to leave no trail,” Falkirk said.  
  
The barrel shaped man with round head raised his eyes to the Omega, “I was not talking about the format.”  
  
Reading over the top document a frown came to Johnston's face. “74 lost or damaged firearms in the last six months,” he said absently.  
  
“They must be afraid of Daniel,” Falkirk responded. “Used to be in the nineties during my time as Q and into the hundreds in my predecessor's.”  
  
“I'm going to end up like you two, shouting and bawling at every Operative who comes back,” Johnston griped.  
   
“We accept you, One of us, One of us,” Falkirk said lyrically quoting a movie Daniel had made him watch.  
  
“With all due respect M, bugger off.” Johnston said with good humour.


	12. Paper Anniversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks to all the readers, commenter and those who left kudos.
> 
> Happy New Year!

Arriving at the generic government building, Falkirk's car pulled to a stop. He got out and moved through the corridors following the signs for the 'Intelligence Ministry' until he arrived at the cramped, wood panelled office with a half dozen desks pushed against the walls.  
  
The Alpha woman with long dark hair and a professional skirt suit tapped away on a mobile. Looking up, Anthea the only person in the room, moved to greet Falkirk, “Mycroft is quite busy,” she informed. Falkirk breezed past her, knocking and pushing open the door at the back. The door swung about a third of the way before bouncing off a chair. Falkirk stuck his head around the barely open door and was met with a windowless office, (more of a broom cupboard). It was only a foot wider than the desk it contained and barely deep enough for Mycroft behind the desk and the guest chairs to the front.  
  
Mycroft looked up, a scowl on his face at the intrusion. “I brought a house warming gift,” Falkirk said holding up a bottle of dry sherry. “This is smaller than my first cubical,” Falkirk added, closing the door so he could move inside and sit, all done in a careful coordination of movements of himself, door and chair.  
  
Mycroft spared the bottle an appreciative glance. “I found guests tend to expect a drink,” Falkirk said absently.  
  
“Yes, a rather tiring custom.”  
  
“Having problems with staff?” Falkirk asked indicating the almost empty room behind them. Nodding Mycroft handed a pile of C.V.s to Falkirk, “All Urquhart's spies,” he said.  
  
“What about Robinson?” Falkirk said getting a glare in response. “I know, that you know he is MI6 but even Urquhart accepts a cretin level of espionage and you will know who he is loyal to.”  
  
“I’m considering him,” Mycroft admitted, testimony to his brother's need to know the allegiances of his staff. Finishing off by offering to personally vet anyone Mycroft wasn't sure about Falkirk headed to his next appointment with C of MI5.  
  
\--  
  
“Thank fuck, if I have to play nice with another one of these sexist bastards I'm going to belt one of them,” Darren hissed.  
  
Falkirk chuckled, Darren took his arm and led him through the bustling sports centre to a waiting area then out of a fire exit. Mallory was in the small lane they emerged on, pacing, a cigarette bobbing between his lips as he muttered to himself. Moneypenny was beside him holding an umbrella to shield the politician from the drizzle, “The support of friends,” Eve snapped then Mallory's mutterings backtracked, he then added the forgotten line and continued.  
  
Arm in arm Falkirk and Darren watched Mallory practice is victory speech from the doorway. “What if you lose?” Falkirk prompted.  
  
“Then I just have to smile and bloody wave,” Mallory said.  
  
“It's time,” a red faced man said, poking his head out of the fire escape.  
  
Mallory straightened his back, dropped the cigarette, straightened his suit and tie and walked ahead of the group. Eve fussed about the politician as well, before he emerged in the public area of the counting room.  
  
Still arm in arm Darren indicated a tall, fat, bald, alpha with small round glasses. “Careful, likes to put hands on us, women too. Gets off on doing it in public and knows most won't make a scene.”  
  
“If he tries it, he's losing an eye,” Falkirk whispered back. Darren giggled, the other Omega had asked Falkirk about that particular legend. Falkirk had described the riot he started between Q Branch and the Guards over the incident.  
  
They were now in a large gym hall where the count for Mallory's constituency was taking place with a sectioned off central section where the ballot papers were organised and counted. A stage had been set up at the back. The various officials, representative from the parties, candidates and with Mallory now a member of the cabinet, a lot of press hoping he would lose his seat in order to make a bigger story.  
  
Darren pulled Falkirk's attention again, indicating the mayor in full dress of long black robes with gold threading, a tricorn hat and the heavy guilt chain of his office. “Only time he gets to be on national TV and milks it for all it's worth.”  
  
Falkirk waited with Darren while Mallory walked up to the stage where the candidates were gathering by the Mayor. One or two of the journalists that regularly covered Mallory in his official duties recognised Falkirk and a few of the camera's flashes were aimed to the Director of MI6 turning out to support the Secretary of State for Intelligence.    
  
With monumental effort Falkirk reined in his impatience. All the man had to do was read out some names and numbers but the Mayor was twenty minutes in, the result in his grubby sweaty hand and he’d not even mentioned the election yet.  
  
Feeling Darren tense, looking across the Omega to the Alpha that had come up to him, the big one Darren had warned him about. A hand rested on Darren's shoulder, the beady eyes behind small round glasses as his mouth twisted into a creepy smile, “Going to be a good boi this time?” the pervert purred to Darren as the hand started sliding down.  
  
Darren's fist flew, connecting with the guy's double chins making them wobble. In the background the mayor said something and a massive cheer went up. Falkirk pulled Darren away from the Alpha, bringing his hand up, he had no qualms about doing something so Omega as using his nails and slashed, three red stripes appearing across the Alpha's cheek and nose.  
  
Eve and Selene grabbed the man's collar and yanked him away. The two women like dogs fighting over mutual prey, both wanting to be the one to make the metaphorical kill.  
  
Falkirk looked around, Darren was pissed off, the crowds had seen nothing and Mallory was giving his victory speech at the far end of the room. Falkirk squeezed Darren's arm and smiled to the cameras wanting a picture of the mate and Director of MI6. Darren caught on and fixed a quick, pleased expression with eyes looking to his Alpha still on stage.  
  
Falkirk waited in a corridor with the stressing Darren. He caught the Omega's arm as he paced, “Leave Gareth to me,” Falkirk insisted. Selene tried to place a comforting hand on the Omega's shoulder and quickly pulled it back when Darren looked like he would punch her as well.  
  
Gareth entered the far end of the corridor with the big pervert beside him, a pad had been taped over the scratch marks. Falkirk fixed Mallory with a calm gaze, preparing to confront the Alpha. The tiny smile was not what Falkirk was expecting from the approaching politician.  
  
Mallory stopped in front of Falkirk, indicating him to the bigger Alpha, ”Bob may I introduce my mate's boss, for the want of a better term friend of Francis Urquhart, Thomas McLair, Director of SIS MI6.”  
  
Then looking to Falkirk, Mallory continued the introduction, “M, Bob Birch treasurer of the local party.”  
  
Then with full anger, Mallory rounded on the Alpha that was taller than him. Falkirk wasn't sure if it was because he told the Alpha to give his mate the benefit of the doubt or if it was because he himself had slashed the pervert. “You started this fight, you will find you have very little support going up against M”  
  
Mallory then took Darren's hand and pulled the omega close and walked away. Falkirk was left alone with the frightened pervert, looking between Mallory's retreating back and the Omega that slashed him.  
  
“I will be most saddened when the Prime Minister tells me of the end to your association with the party,” Falkirk said and the man was experienced enough to know an instruction to resign when he heard it.  
  
Walking away Falkirk heard the man swearing. There was a thump of a fist hitting a wall and a pained growl. Pulling out his phone Falkirk started a personal investigation into the man to see if a little more could be done to end his conduct or bring it to light.  
  
\--  
  
Sitting in Westminster Abbey beside his counterparts in the various branches of military, secret service and police, Falkirk sat watching as a teenager was crowned after his Father's abdication. “I can’t believe that, _politician_ brought down a king,” Admiral Roebuck whispered to Falkirk beside him.  
  
Mycroft on the pew directly ahead of Falkirk, now relegated further back since the last time they attended a coronation, glared daggers at the back of Urquhart's head several rows ahead. “Stamper was caught in a bombing,” C said leaning forward to whisper in Mycroft's ear. The Arch Bishop droned on in the background.  
  
Leaning forward Falkirk whispered, “You do know Urquhart is almost penniless in his own right.”  
  
“He wants and has power,” C responded.  
  
“But he is over twenty years older than his wife, their savings won't last long in the life she has become accustom to,” Falkirk said. Mycroft dropped his glare, looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at the newest angle of attack on the Prime Minister.  
  
Finally the old Bishop couldn't stall any longer and placed the crown on the boy's head. “Thank Christ,” C said vocalising everyone but Mycroft's opinion on the pomp and circumstance.  
  
After the ceremony Falkirk returned to MI6. Removing his top hat, tails and cravat he took his place at his desk picking up the letter from the office of the Chief Whip. Wondering why the late Tim Stamper wanted to send him a letter, Falkirk slipped the letter opener into the envelope labelled 'Private and confidential' meaning only Falkirk was allowed to see the contents.  
  
The letter outlined Stamper's attempt to give a piece of evidence to the police. Knowing Falkirk was the only person other than himself that knew about it, he wanted Falkirk to complete his task if he failed.  
  
Folding the letter Falkirk placed it into his brief case. Returning to the day to day tasks of running MI6 Falkirk absently noted that a single hopeful of James' class remained. Authorising Operative status for the recruit Falkirk moved on, reviewing and signing off on an investigation that would precede the deployment of a Double O depending on the outcome. Pulling up his calendar he had an accounts meeting next followed by a report from Station J and Station A.  
  
\--  
  
It was strange for Falkirk to see Mycroft in a poky office and not the opulent and comfortable surrounding's of his club. He placed Stamper's letter on his desk for Mycroft to read. “Was there a Dictaphone in Stamper's car?” Falkirk asked.  
  
Shaking his head Mycroft handed the letter back. “The Met and Special Branch were the first on scene,” Mycroft informed.  
  
Considering Special Branch where protection it was highly unusual for them to be on site of a bombing. However Falkirk suspected they may have been trying to protect the Prime Minister as most of the bombings aided or protected Special Branch or the Prime Minister in some way. Pulling out his phone Falkirk pulled up the audio file Sherlock had retrieved for him.  
  
A woman's desperate and almost hysterical voice sounded from Falkirk's phone, “I love you daddy, tell me you didn't kill Rodger O'Neal?”  
  
“Yes, yes I did. I had to do it,” came the soft authoritative tones of the newly appointed leader of the party and acting Prime Minister.  
  
“I trust you Daddy,” Mattie said desperately. “But I don't think I can trust you,” Urquhart responded sympathetically.  
  
“Nooo,” Came a heartbroken plea of the upset and distressed Omega. With a single wail of, “daddy!” And the sound of a sickening crunch the recording ended.  
  
Mycroft's eyes snapped from the phone to Falkirk demanding, “Did he push her?”  
  
Shrugging in response Falkirk added, “An unsubstantiated recording of a recording that is vague at best. The record states Mattie Storin committed suicide, she could have for all we can tell. The only thing that is different from Urquhart's official account of events is the use of the term 'daddy' and the O'Neal bit.  
    There is no other proof he killed O'Neal either. Driving high and drunk, I suspect Urquhart engineered a situation where O'Neal would bring about his own death rather than act directly. O'Neal had a well known cocaine habit, there was enough alcohol in his system to floor a lesser man and he’d just pulled into a service station for a pick me up. It was luck that he overdosed in a stall rather than cause a pile up on the motorway.”  
  
“An attack on the Prime Minister's reputation will not surface and that’s what this will amount to,” was Mycroft's disappointed response.  
  
“If all you have in a fight is a small stick you don't tend to share it,” Falkirk said in excuse for not sharing the information in the first place.  
  
\--  
  
“M,” Tanner called hesitantly, coming into Falkirk's office. Unaccustomed to the man's hesitancy, if there was a problem somewhere Tanner would just spit it out. “Some of the staff are unsure, it’s your first year as M,” Tanner informed.  
  
Looking to the calendar Falkirk confirmed it was a year today he went to see the Prime Minister bullying his position as Director out of the man.  
  
“I will endure with good humour whatever they have planed,” Falkirk informed.  
  
Tanner nodded to the communal office where a small gathering was held. Daniel, Johnston, Peter, Annie and a few others came up from Q Branch. The on station Doubles Os Dark and Shepard came up as well. It couldn't be described as a party, the memories still too fresh.  
  
Falkirk joined Darren, Ewan and Annie, the four Omegas gossiping. Falkirk only half listening to Annie talk about her new mate, a hunky Irish Alpha who was nice but a little moody. Around the communal office there were groups of work friends. Tanner was close but a little apart from the group he most associated with, just like Falkirk was a little apart from the group he was with. It was hard thing to lead and be a friend, usually one of the relationships had to be sacrificed in order to be able to work effectively. The conversations were light and careful with the bosses mingling about.  
  
Looking to the side there was the blond guard that had walked him back down to Q branch the day James had been reported killed, Falkirk met the hazel eyes briefly before the guard resumed his vigil.  
  
Falkirk stood from where he had been perching against a desk. “Brayan” Falkirk said in greeting to the blond guard as he passed. Heading out of E Branch, bypassing the security checkpoint and along the corridor to the lifts, the doors pinged open and Falkirk stepped out. To the right was the reception, more check points and the doors to the world outside.  Directly behind the reception desks on the back of the lobby was the memorial wall.  
  
Jonathan Hunter, Adrian Helmsley Falkirk looked at their names. “It's my first official year as M. By all measurable criteria, apparently it is a successful year. The smoothest transition of Directorship, ever,” He said to the acceptable losses in the grand scheme of things.  
  
Falkirk felt a brush against one shoulder, Selene was there like she always was. Then there was a brush at the other side and Daniel was there too. “I don't think I’ll like marking this anniversary. Come on, you can buy me a drink,” Falkirk said taking the arms of the Alpha's, wondering if James had noticed the date too. He probably would but wouldn’t want to mark it in any way but to bury the painful memories under alcohol.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks to the readers and commenters and those who left kudos

Pacing the office of O, just a deep, breeze block, rectangular room with the door at the narrow end, a glass filled opening that couldn't really be called a window as it was only a foot wide by a half high and caked with grime. It was far cleaner and fresher than the first times Falkirk had been in the back office of his club, from when it was Oso's then Serendipity's and now Paulik's base of operations. Still furnished with a basic laminated pine and plywood desk, uncomfortable fake leather swivel chair with duck tape to seal the rips, some basic chairs in front of the desk and a thin metal filing cabinet. It was a rather spacious room, due to the fact the club had sacrificed a private bed/dance room to have a back office. On one side of the wall was a room where an employee was seeing to a client and the other the window looking onto the narrow alley that ran behind the club.  
  
Falkirk waited for the latest update from Evens, the MI6 agent inside one of the world's leading Arms and Technology manufacturer. Falkirk should really have handed over Evens to a new handler but as he’d helped in her training, couldn't help the soft spot he had for her or Maloney.  
  
There was a tap and the door pushed open. Evens, dressed in black jeans and thin turtle-neck jumper under a long coat. Her image had changed little since the last time Falkirk saw her last, the only exception was a narrow but long scar in front of her right ear, extending from the hair line to her jaw. Like last time the Beta's hard attitude had hardened a little more.  
  
“I met Mr Blond, I heard one of his men call him, 'Skidar' I think,” Evens informed, pulling out two little bags, one containing a single platinum blond hair and the other a blood stained knife. “Haven't had a chance to get these to station N since getting back to New York. The hair is Mr Blond's. The knife, dataDyne failed to get an experimental drone in the running for a big Air Force contract, Mr Blond was displeased, he ordered one of his guards to teach De Vries a lesson, I gutted the guard like a fish.”  
  
“Good. Are you acting as her champion or still a bodyguard?” Falkirk mused. If Evens was acting as a champion for De Vries against her Alpha, the hidden Omega would come to rely on Evens more, just like Falkirk relied on Daniel when James went too far.  
  
“I'm trying to just appear as her bodyguard, maintaining the front that I don't know she is an Omega.”  
  
Falkirk nodded. Looking at the knife and hair, it looked like there was a root attached so DNA should be quite easy and the blood on the knife could identify the associates beside the mysterious Alpha. “Other activity?”  
  
Falkirk listened to the rundown. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary for a company of dataDyne's size, just the industrial espionage, corruption, blackmail, fraud and incompetence that masked a strategy to force customers into perpetual and costly updates to maintain security that everyone dealt in. The ‘M’ part of himself said that perhaps the operation was a bust but there was something in his gut that wanted to keep Evens inside the company. In deadly serious tones, “I do not trust them, Evens. Keep your ear to the ground and eyes open. If they are up to something, you might be the only one who can sound the warning.”  
  
“I understand, M.”  
  
“Good work Evens. You are a credit to this organisation and the United Kingdom.” Falkirk saw the moment of pride that passed through the woman's brown eyes. It was why he said it, she might not be able to see it, nor even Falkirk at this moment but she was doing something he believed had a use in the greater scheme of things and she should know that.    
  
\--  
  
Before heading for Washington DC Falkirk took some personal time and with Selene slipped off to see Keading and his growing brother. The young child was running his Papa ragged, a demanding little Alpha continually pushing the boundaries of what he was allowed to do. With arrogance and inexperience he flung himself at the invading Alpha the moment the door was opened, making little grunting growls toward Selene.  
  
Keading apologised going to pick Cody up when Selene dismissed his concern. “Do you trust me?” She asked with a twinkle in her eye. Getting a hesitant nod in response, “Why don't you go make some coffee?” She prompted, catching the tiny arms trying to attack her legs.  
  
Cody continued to attack the invading Alpha and gave high pitched growls as Keading and Falkirk retreated to the kitchen. Falkirk suspected what was going to happen but didn't quite know about Keading. Standing beside the Omega and taking his arm Falkirk whispered, “Don't worry, Selene knows what she is doing, Cody’s safe.”  
  
A vicious feminine growl sounded from the other room. Holding the other Omega's arm, “Calm,” Falkirk reassured, preventing the Omega from running to his child.  
  
Screaming, Cody darted in, skidding and falling on the linoleum floor then scrabbled on hands and feet, running for his Papa and hid behind his legs. Selene rushed in, keeping low to about the same height as the child. Crouching down with her fingertips on the floor in a predatory prowl, she glared at the Alpha hiding from view, issuing a low rumbling growl but not approaching further. Letting the Alpha again see his Papa was still the one protecting him and not the other way around.  
  
“I remember when Hudson did that to Sherlock, the scariest thing I had ever seen,” Falkirk said to break the sudden tension. “Alphas need to occasionally be reminded they're not in charge,” Falkirk said softly to the slightly distressed Keading.  
  
Nodding his understanding Keading lifted the child up and nuzzled him. After a hierarchy had been established with the young Alpha no longer at the top he settled down. Coming over to his big brother Cody demanded to get into his lap, always keeping an eye out to the smirking Alpha and where his Papa was.  
  
\--  
  
The final task for his time in America was to meet his counterpart in the CIA. Admiral Greer was a monolith of a man. Even when he spoke softly his voice filled the room like rolling thunder. Falkirk was handed a mug of coffee more like thin tar than a drink. As the meeting came to a close Falkirk asked, “I was wondering, I have not seen Jack Wade and I missed him on my last trip as well. I was hoping to see him?”  
  
The Admiral gave a deep chuckle, in precise tones that seemed to fill the room even when spoken softly, “Retired, noting to do with us now.”  
  
After the meeting Falkirk contacted Jack to see if the old Alpha wanted to meet, as he missed him pitching up at the Airport on his arrival. When Jack hesitated to set up a meeting Falkirk was going to leave it, with a sense of disappointment.  
  
Receiving a phone call not half an hour later, “Hey kiddo, well, my boss would like a quiet meeting.” Falkirk was a little concerned by the hesitance in the Alpha, like Falkirk was being led into a trap and Jack didn't want to be in the middle of the situation.  
  
It didn't help when Jack's itinerary required Falkirk to arrive by an American supplied limousine. Selene voiced her concern as his bodyguard. Trusting his friend they got in the black car when it pulled up at the British Embassy.  
  
The night time streets of the US capital passed the tinted windows until an illuminated building came into view. Seeing where they were Falkirk understood the old Alpha's evasiveness. They turned off the iconic road and moved to the aptly named White House.  
  
A man in full military dress uniform opened Falkirk's door. What was as much of a surprise as the location, was the Alpha he knew. Never had Falkirk seen Wade in more than a Hawaiian shirt, now he was in a good suit and looking rather uncomfortable, like the tie was pinching around his neck and squeezing his head like a reddish/pink modelling balloon.  
  
Walking up to his old friend expecting the blast of Kiddo, “M,” Jack greeted more politely than Falkirk had ever heard before from the man. Jack then indicated the small, old and white haired Omega at his side and Leo McGarry was introduced.  
  
Shaking hands, when he spoke Leo had a low and rasping voice, “Good to meet you.”  
  
The old Omega guided them through the White House. Falkirk knew of the Omega President but didn't know about Jack's involvement. Walking through a small office Leo knocked on a door and entered. Following the White House Chief of Staff, Falkirk was met by another small Omega Male coming out from behind the desk with the eagle seal on the carpet just in front. He was grey haired, with a rough voice but not quite as rasping as the Chief of Staff's.  
  
After the initial greetings Bartlett guided Falkirk to have a seat as someone brought in a tea set. “I am told you enjoy Earl Grey,” Bartlett said indicating the tea being poured.  
  
“I have been known to enjoy a cup,” Falkirk returned getting a snort of a suppressed laugh from Jack beside him.  
  
“I hear I have you to thank for enlightening him,” President Bartlett said indicating Jack.  
  
“From the first time I met him, Jack has been the perfect gentleman,” Falkirk returned, getting a subtle nudge from Jack and his confrontational tone. Bartlett swiftly glossed over the friction of the joke not taken lightly.  
  
So accustomed to the manipulations and ulterior motives of the politicians like Urquhart, the tea and the over friendly conversation was acting like flashing red lights of danger to M of MI6. Scenting Jack's stress and frustration Falkirk waited as he focused on the conversation for the inevitable trap. Avoiding or politely, but flat out refusing to answer most of the President's questions.  
  
“Mr President, if I may?” Jack finally interrupted seeing Falkirk becoming more guarded by the moment and the politicians frustration that they were not winning over their guest.  
  
“The President is hosting a big conference for improved Omega presence in all aspects of Government, Military and Business,” Jack informed. Knowing the pleasant political approach was not the way to win over the earned head of one of the world’s foremost intelligence agencies.  
  
“Is that all,” Falkirk responded. Relaxing at his old friends explanation, Falkirk started steering the conversation towards the President's conference, admitting he may not be the best speaker because all he’d ever done was to prove himself to the Alphas in his life.  
  
“To some, awakening them to the possibility of a greater future is more important than how their role model achieved theirs,” Bartlett said passionately. Falkirk couldn't help admire the way the man spoke when he dropped the political bullshit.  
  
Discussing the dates Falkirk couldn't promises much until closer to the time but gave his tacit agreement to attend.  
  
“You could have bloody warned me,” Falkirk complained quietly to his old friend as they walked through the corridors.  
  
“They're not half as good as you. I have never seen either go for an Alpha the way you do,” Jack whispered.  
  
“You're the only Alpha on his staff?” Falkirk asked having only seen Omegas and Betas, even the posted military and Secret Service didn't have the Alpha demographic he would have expected.  
  
Nodding in answerer, “Apparently I have developed a reputation as a radical who listens to Omegas,” Jack complained.  
  
“How 'bout you buy an Omega a drink?” Falkirk offered.  
  
“Best idea yet, kiddo,” Jack said following Falkirk into the limousine and giving the driver the name of a bar.  
  
\--  
  
Tanner burst in to Falkirk's office, “Double O Nine on the line, he's asking for you,” he informed.  
  
Going through to the situation room Falkirk picked up the indicated headset, meaning 009 wanted a private line. “Mission accomplished, failed to maintain time and distance constraints,” Maloney wheezed, ending in a mewl.  
  
Giving Tanner orders for immediate extraction, Falkirk got as much detail out of the Operative as he could. By the time the line went dead the Omega was mewling continuously but with nothing more he could personally do Falkirk returned to his work.  
  
Finishing for the day, Falkirk didn't want to go home as he wished to be here on Maloney's return. Heading to the armoury he greeted Johnston as he was heading out. “Still no replacement?” Johnston asked knowing the 001 had not been filled yet.  
  
“There are two candidates, I want to meet them both,” Falkirk replied.  
  
“Make sure they're not as good as me,” Johnston teased, as his parting shot.  
  
James' rifle had been painstakingly restored over months. Putting on the finishing touches Falkirk cleaned the weapon and took it into the range. Two of the automated targets shattered under Falkirk's aim. Pleased with his work Falkirk locked the gun away for its eventual return to Skyfall.  
  
Pulling up a stool he sat at a work bench, the armoury a good hiding place as people had to go out of their way to get him here. Picking up the ringing phone Falkirk listened to the E branch worker. He met the ambulance in the parking garage as the doors were flung open and two paramedics, one omega the other beta slid the gurney out. Even unconscious 009 writhed and mewled softly. Instead of taking him to medical he was taken to a suite in the accommodation block far below, in the fallout shelter under even Q branch. There had been a similar place set up for Alphas who accidentally bonded but this was the first for an Omega.  
  
The lift opened onto a corridor very similar to Q Branch, a long wide tunnel with doors coming off it. Dr Keith, the only Omega doctor on staff stepped out of one of the doors. Instructing all non Omegas to wait while Falkirk, the Omega paramedic and Dr Keith took Maloney into the small apartment to recover from his breaking bond.  
  
The paramedic left immediately but Falkirk remained until Maloney was on the new drug and had quietened down. Giving one last look over the windowless, panelled room with soft lighting, Falkirk patted Maloney's shoulder and left him in the hands of the medical staff.  
  
\--  
  
The Doctor overseeing Maloney's care sat in Falkirk's office along with his boss the Chief Medical Officer. Dr Keith was discussing Maloney's treatment, snapping at his boss a few times for her blasé attitude just because the Operative in question was an Omega.  
  
Falkirk couldn't disagree with Keith's assessment of his boss. Dr Reid was too dismissive for Falkirk's liking, 009 was a good operative and as long as he was able and willing, it was Falkirk and MI6's job to support him.  
  
He made a note to start looking for a new Chief Medical Officer, regretting Keith was just a little too inexperienced. While he’d learnt to stand up to his boss, against strange Alphas, particularly the more dominant males tended to force Dr Keith into submission with little more than their personality.  
  
“Still no way to prevent a bond forming?” Falkirk asked.  
  
Keith shook his head. “Unless an Omega leaves immediately or is in a heat cycle, no.”  
  
Falkirk nodded, the situation wasn't ideal. That was the point of tying, to keep an Omega present so a bond would form. Sitting back Falkirk drummed his finger on his desk for a few moments. “I wonder. Developing a bonding inhibitor would be too expensive for MI6. Most pharmaceutical companies don't see the point in its development. The Carrington Institute has a pharmaceutical division, perhaps we could share the cost, if we could also prove there's a market for such a product.”  
  
Dr Keith leaned forward, “M?”  
  
“Sorry, miles away,” Falkirk sat snapping back to the here and now. “That is all for now, dismissed.”  
  
\--  
  
Wanting to see the Operative in his element Falkirk had descended into PT Branch and saw the Alpha amongst a group, watching some of the others training.  
  
Walking up to the Operative from Station O Falkirk caught the tail end of a nasty joke about the Omega Double O in the basement saying, “I'd help him get over it quick enough.”  
  
“A judgement call on a person you know nothing about,” Falkirk said gaining his attention. “I will speak with Director Hall, you may return to Oman,” Falkirk informed getting a begrudging, “Yes M,” in response.  
  
Looking to the mission brief he was going to use to assess the man Falkirk marched out into the training area. Seeing a vaguely familiar wavy blond haired man, the last remaining recruit of the latest generation of hopefuls, he stepped onto the obstacle course and into his path. Pulling to a stop the man breathed heavily and perspiration soaked through his standard blue tracksuit. Handing him the folder, “Speak to Tanner,” Falkirk ordered. The scent of an Omega clung to him, absently Falkirk thought all the Omegas of the group had washed out.  
  
The mission would be a trial by fire for the Operative but if he pulled it off Stewart Thomas would be well on his way. Just in case, Falkirk thought about who could shadow the new Operative from a distance.  
  
\--  
  
The only other current potential for Double O status was a Beta, Edward Donne. Reluctantly Falkirk gave the man the mission suitable for a Double O. The Beta had black hair with a few silver hairs and soft brown eyes perhaps of Mediterranean decent. There was a sharp cruelty to the man's gaze that put Falkirk on edge.  
  
When Donne spoke he was polite and articulate but it put Falkirk further on edge. Uncomfortable, Falkirk had dealt with assassins, mercenaries, ruthless politicians and his blood relatives so was concerned when this Beta raised the hairs on the back of his neck.  
  
\--  
  
Knocking and entering Q's office Falkirk greeted Daniel before moving onto the matter at hand. Discussing James' mission Falkirk decided he had enough time.  
  
Two days later Falkirk met up with Charmian Bond at the rebuilt Skyfall. What could be saved of the shell had been and the burn marks cleaned off the sandstone walls.  
  
The heavy oak door was pulled open by the old and round man dressed in functional heavy wool tweed, to stave off the perpetual drizzle and wind. “Hello there.” Kincade greeted in a low and pleasant grumble.  
  
“It's a fine building.” Kincade added letting the three visitors pass. Leaving Charmian to wander, Kincade guided Falkirk to the newly rebuilt gun room. Placing a long case on the central table Falkirk opened it. “Bugger me, I looked for that,” Kincade said at seeing the old gun.  
  
He told the old Game keeper how he had come across the rusted metal as he traipsed across the moors. Asking if he could have a go, Falkirk gave his permission and handed over the gun to the old Alpha. Setting up a few bits and pieces on a wall outside as makeshift targets Kincade took aim with the weapon he had taught James to shoot with and pulled the trigger, missing completely.  
  
“It doesn't pull to the left,” Kincade said as he reloaded.  
  
“I have never produced any gun that has been anything less than true,” Falkirk dismissed, affronted at the slight to his workmanship.  
  
“You restored it?” Kincade asked sceptically getting a simple yes in response. “Can you shoot as well?” Kincade demanded handing over the loaded gun. Quickly and succinctly two of the targets went flying under Falkirk's steady hand and eye.  
  
Returning to the gun room Falkirk placed the rifle into the first place of the rack. Selene who had remained inside had unloaded several Pistols and SMGs. “I don't think they will fit,” Kincade observed at what should be an illegal weapons cache.  
  
Going over to the back wall Falkirk pressed his thumb to an inconspicuous knot in the wood. Grasping a cross bar at the top of the gun rack, Falkirk pulled down. The rack slid down to revealing a hidden compartment behind. Kincade watched in silence as the weapons were placed into the hidden rack along with computers, cash, medical supplies and explosives.  
  
“James never did tell me what he does now days,” Kincade said as Falkirk slid up the concealed rack and tested it to make sure it locked.  
   
Finally Falkirk checked out the old priest hole. Again a biometric lock had been disguised as a knot of wood. The tunnel had been widened with a couple of small rooms added along its length. A generator with battery room for back up and a store of long life food and clothing also added.  
  
“Preparing for a war?” Kincade asked.  
  
“Always,” Falkirk shot back. Still in the low tunnel, he took Kincade aside, “Whether he will admit it or not, this is where James runs to when the world gets too much. I don't want another situation to arise, like when he brought 'Emma' here with enemies on his heels.”  
  
The old Alpha looked at him and gave a single understanding nod. Kincade then moved up the tunnel, his slightly stiff and bowed legs giving a sway to the old man's movement. Falkirk wanted to call to the Alpha, ask a question to something he suspected and knew James had buried a long time ago. With a force of will, Falkirk crushed his curiosity letting the ghosts remain buried.  
  
Coming out of the priest hole Falkirk toured the house. The layout was similar to what had been there previously. A large lounge and dining area curved round a corner of the house with the kitchen through the dining room door. There was also a study and small library along with the gun room on the ground floor. It was all done in sandstone, wood panels, cream plaster work and stone or wooden floors. There was no furniture yet and the range in the kitchen had been completely removed and only a place for a large cooker remained. It looked very much like how the house had been before it was destroyed.  
  
Upstairs contained several bedrooms and a couple of large communal bathrooms. Not technically the master bedroom, Falkirk liked the one that looked over the loch and church in the distance. Deciding to claim the room Falkirk thought about furniture to go with the dark wooden panels and light cream walls. Pulling open the other doors in the room Falkirk was met with a cupboard and a wash room. Using a small note pad, he noted down furniture, making a special note to improve the basic wash room and the bathrooms to make them a little more modern that the rest of the house. He also added a four poster, preferably an antique with nice carvings for his and James' room.  
  
Pulling open the final door on the upstairs landing, a narrow staircase came out into the attic. The open space had been floored and little more, the rafters exposed and the few windows giving light. It could be turned into a few more rooms if need be, but the matter was not pressing so Falkirk left it for now.  
  
With nothing much to see Falkirk returned to the kitchen where Charmian, Selene and Kincade had gathered. The driver and two police escorts where there as well sipping tea from a Thermos Kincade had brought. Everyone leant against the counters, there was no table in the middle of the large room where there was space for one, the spaces under the counters were absent of the washing machine and other items required to make the room functional. Taking an over steeped sip Falkirk grimaced at the taste of the overly dark tea. “Everything seems in order,” Falkirk stated pulling out a pad and started noting down items for the kitchen and a few other things the house would need.  
  
The woman with light auburn hair came up to Falkirk, her eyes darker than that of her nephew and her voice a little more cultured. Charmian thanked Falkirk before asking him if it was acceptable, could she make occasional use of the house. “The back left room will be James and mine, but yes,” Falkirk stated.  
  
“That used to be Mother's room,” Charmian stated absently and thanked Falkirk again.


	14. The Double O that never was

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting.

Maloney walked into Falkirk's office placing his written report on the desk. He was still on the treatment but he was more mobile on the new medication. Indicating Maloney should take a seat while Falkirk read over the report. Darren brought in some tea and biscuits for the Double O with his scent of sickness and what would commonly be considered disrepair, but the psychs had cleared Maloney and they had put it down to the new drug and a misinterpretation of the que.  
  
“I could get used to this,” Maloney said placing a few spoons of sugar in his tea and taking a chocolate biscuit.  
  
“All you need to do, is just become M,” Falkirk returned absently not looking up from the document. “Did you care for her?” Falkirk asked placing the document down and looking to the Operative.  
  
“For a moment, until I knew Black was the one organising the mercenaries,” Maloney admitted.  
  
Falkirk told Maloney of anonymised missions where the Operative had gotten too close to someone and had to make a hard choice. Emotions and biology over their duty. Telling him he may feel alone but he wasn't and more people would understand than he knew.  
  
“Standard down time and still no substance issues,” Falkirk said, the ending sounding impressed but it brought a potential problem to mind. “I don't usually have to ask this because I usually know. What do you do to put yourself together?”  
  
Maloney suddenly became uncomfortable and defensive. Falkirk didn't want to push Maloney over an issue that was considered private. He knew one ex-Double O had liked to be pinned, showing the submission and lack of control privately that he couldn't show at other times. James drank too much and out of his Omega's influence, pills as well. Alec was violence, the illegal fights. Another went to a gents lavatory near Soho.  
  
Falkirk gave a sad smile thinking on the photo he found of Helmsley, that one was even a surprise to him. No one knowing the drag queen, belting out Gloria Gaynor on the open mike night was, by statistics still the most dangerous Double O MI6 had ever seen. In high heels, long red dress like Jessica Rabbit and a really good wig of long black hair. Shaking off the thought, “You don't have to say but remember you are being watched by us, our allies and our enemies. Blackmail is a possibility, no matter what, however embarrassing it may be or shameful you might feel you can tell me. No judgement will be made and you would be surprised what some of the butchest of Alphas get up to.”  
  
Closing the mission folder Falkirk poured another cup of tea and sat back in the upright Mackintosh chair, switching the conversation to the Omega conference in America he had been invited to. Getting another viewpoint from an Omega who achieved the pinnacle of their chosen career path was enlightening.  
  
When Maloney was more relaxed Falkirk wanted his opinion on someone. On paper and even the interview she was beyond perfect, MD, PHD in psychology with a history of working with some of the most damaged and dangerous people. “How is Dr Deane working out?”  
  
“Better than most of the quacks.”  
  
\--  
  
The man of Italian heritage, fourth generation to be exact, again sat across from Falkirk. After Donne handed in his report there was nothing to stop Falkirk awarding him Double O status immediately, but for a feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
  
His cold brown eyes and narrow face with pointed nose slightly raised gave him a superior expression with a lack of outward emotion. In his way he charmed most, but Falkirk was concerned that he wasn't particularly good at it but had absolute belief in himself, conveyed in the report.  
  
Falkirk held him in a cool gaze, weighing up the man. There was something in him he had seen dozens of times, however Falkirk didn't think this man was as in control of himself like the others. “Congratulations Mr Donne. You will be granted your Double O status and Licence to Kill in due course. Dismissed.”  
  
“Of course, M,” Came the drawling nasal accent with a slightly northern tinge to it.  
  
Calling Tanner and Peter from Q branch Falkirk ordered, “There is no way in hell Donne is getting a Licence to Kill. Full background check, everything no matter how small. Warn MI5 and have them tail Donne. I need to know who he truly is.”  
  
Getting a chorus of 'Yes, M' the two fled the office to start the investigation.  
  
James sauntered into E branch later the same day, blessedly free of any new scars. Packing up James protested he could wait, after their heat together James had calmed down a lot. “I missed my Alpha,” Falkirk said. On the way out, telling Darren he was 'bunking off'.  
  
Outside of E Branch, James took the briefcase out of Falkirk's hand and clasped it, interlacing their fingers.  
  
\--  
  
Seeing Donne walking into E branch unsummoned a few days later Falkirk warned Darren. Breezing into Falkirk's office Donne slammed the door behind him. His demeanour was cold and annoyed. Being a Beta, Falkirk couldn't pick up any scent ques that he would get from an Alpha or to a lesser extent Omega. However, Falkirk suspected even if he could give off a que Donne wouldn't.  
  
“It's a technicality, becoming a Double O takes a stroke of a pen,” Donne snapped trying to use his thin, Italian suit covered form to loom over Falkirk.  
  
Pulling his left drawer open Falkirk made sure the Operative saw the mother of pear handled gun sitting in a holster. Pulling out the hard copy report and closing the drawer, “SIT!” Falkirk ordered.  
  
When Donne complied, Falkirk flicked his report open. Red marks and highlights littered the pages. “I am used to a cretin amount of misdirection from my Operatives, NOT OUT RIGHT LIES,” Falkirk said harshly.  
  
“I can’t prove it yet but I will drag every little secret out,” Falkirk promised.  
  
Donne tensed at the statement from his superior. “If you have so little faith in me you'll have my resignation,” Donne said coldly.  
  
“Accepted, you don't have to put it in writing. I believe you know where the door is,” Falkirk stated. A movement outside the office caught Donne's attention looking to the tactical team and Selene amassing before turning his attention to Falkirk again. Donne's eyes snapped to the left hand drawer Falkirk had opened, silently.  
  
“I should not need to remind you, you are now and in perpetuity bound by the official secrets act”, Falkirk informed.  
  
Donne stood slowly going to the door and was escorted out by the tactical team. Once Donne reached his office door, Falkirk followed maintaining a safe distance from the man. Looking to Darren at his desk and Tanner, “Redouble your efforts on Donne. Warn MI5 and put a halt on Donne's travel documents, cancel all credit and debit cards, monitor his personal accounts. I want that man leashed until he is proven innocent, not the other way around.”  
  
\--  
  
The latest alert from his trace on Maloney pinged up on Falkirk's computer. There were alerts for Maloney's flat, shops and pubs nothing suspicious until this one.  
  
A quick internet search identified an establishment where Omegas could express their instincts without fear of bonding or Alphas. Nesting nights were advertised along with piling sessions. Having long ago hacked the host servers and set himself up as administrator account, Falkirk searched the hidden areas of the website too.  
  
Much of the client list were unbound Omegas in high pressure non confrontational jobs around the city. Tapping his fingers on the tea cup as he sat at the table, deep in thought, “James can you drive me somewhere?” Falkirk asked. The Alpha grumbled under his breath and rolled off the couch in response.  
  
Arriving at the establishment Falkirk and James approached the door. A Beta woman gave a sharp, “No Alphas,” towards James.  
  
Pulling back from the door, “I just want to make sure he understands there is nothing to be embarrassed about,” Falkirk said to James. Pulling Falkirk aside James instructed him to open a secure line. Doing as his Alpha instructed Falkirk placed his phone in his cardigan pocket so James could hear him as he moved through the club.  
  
James watched Falkirk disappear behind the door. Going to his car on the opposite side of the street James lit up a cigarette to help him look inconspicuous. Listening via what looked like a Bluetooth head set, James could hear soft tones that could not quite be called music, more like an instrumental version of whale song.  
  
James could hear Falkirk's soft voice, the atmosphere should be very relaxing. James could hear the slight speech impediment, a slight hiss in his pronunciation that Falkirk had steadily covered over the years. He barely recognised 009's Geordie accent that was absent when at work.  
  
Stubbing out the cigarette a noise drew James' attention. Warily approaching the open end of an alley a sudden hiss and a cat darted from the shadows. Turning, James headed back to the car when his world went black.  
  
Inside the club, after initial annoyance at his arrival Maloney now had his head resting on his bosses' lap much like he did when the Omega helped him through the breaking of the bond. The Operative accepted Falkirk's explanation that he was concerned about Maloney's safety. The atmosphere sapped any attempt at aggression. Idly Falkirk wondered what would happen if he pumped this atmosphere into MI6 and could it be weaponised to subdue Alphas.  
  
The shrill tone of Falkirk's phone ripped through the room. Getting a lot of annoyed looks and 'shhh's Falkirk reached for the phone but it had stopped ringing by the time he pulled it out of his pocket.  
  
Dismissing it Falkirk went back to stroking the other Omega's hair line. The sudden change in the room's scent got through Falkirk and Maloney's blissed out mood. Maloney also took the ting of fear coming from his boss, an unknown Beta approached them ripping M from behind the bulkier blond Omega. The Beta ignored Maloney marching Falkirk out of the room.  
  
Fighting through the blissed out lethargy Maloney pursued the Beta. With a left hook and a strong right punch Donne tumbled to the floor. Grabbing his boss Maloney pulled him to the exit before the Beta could recover.  
  
As they spilled out into the street the door woman was nowhere in sight. Falkirk noticed an arm lying on the pavement across the street, extending beyond the front of James' Aston Martin. The fresh air allowed Falkirk and Maloney to recover their senses. Running to his Alpha Falkirk looked him over. Getting a groan, Falkirk roused James pulling him to his feet as Maloney kept a look out.  
  
Suddenly James grabbed Falkirk's shoulder and shoving him towards the alley with an order to, “RUN.”  
  
Knowing not to argue Falkirk didn't see Donne barrel into Maloney. Running through the streets Falkirk saw the tube logo up ahead.  
  
Jumping the barrier of the unmanned station Falkirk descended onto the platforms. Riding the few stops he wanted Falkirk exited onto the platform. Unlike the previous station there were police and staff floating about. Running, Falkirk vaulted the barrier to the shouts of “Stop!”  
  
Darting out of the station Falkirk ran flat out not bothering to try and loose the pursuers. Arriving ahead of the police at the row of dark brick and cream town houses, he hammered on the familiar door. Grabbed, Falkirk was pulled to the ground and his hands yanked behind him.  
  
As the policeman was reciting Falkirk his rights a gun cocking sounded. “Get off,” Alec growled. As most police are not armed the PC let Falkirk go and slowly stood, hands in the air. Alec covered the Policeman with Daniel appearing in the doorway as well. Standing Falkirk informed Alec of the situation but before he could issue the order Alec ran off to help bring down the rogue Operative.  
  
Ignoring the Officer Falkirk entered the house. Daniel called Tanner to straighten things out with the police and to get Falkirk's car there. Pulling out his phone Falkirk noticed a missed call from Smiley, C of MI5 before trying to get through to James.  
  
“We're in pursuit, heading out of London south and east, possibly Dover,” James snapped. Disconnecting Falkirk updated Alec on the progress in an attempt to head Donne off.  
  
Returning C's call, “Let me guess, you lost Edward Donne in the region of Dow Road?” Falkirk asked. Smiley, answering that MI5 did lose contact with the man, “Would you like to guess where I was?”  
  
“If he could call off the police before they storm the house I would appreciate it,” Daniel said looking out at the amassed Armed Response Unit. “Never mind Selene is here.”  
  
When Selene rang the bell, she preceded Falkirk to the car with Daniel taking up the rear. Giving into the juvenile urge Falkirk waved at his arresting officer as the car pulled away.  
  
Arriving in E branch Tanner was coordinating the pursuit of Donne in the tactical room at the back of the Branch. Falkirk could hear MI5 operatives as well as the three Double Os.  
  
Reluctantly Falkirk cut in over the chatter, “I want him Alive,” Falkirk ordered as the pursuit entered the truck yard of a Dover ferry terminal.  
  
CCTV relayed the events on the ground in grainy night vision. The long rows of waiting trucks like a maze of corridors. Like a cornered fox being pursued by hounds Donne was quickly running out of space. Maloney took a shot at Donne causing him to fire back a couple of times. Alec did the same causing Donne to shoot back and duck behind a truck to reload.  
  
James darted between trucks making Donne fire again. Knowing he was running out of bullets and knowing what they were doing Donne conserved his remaining shots. A shot from Maloney and Donne fell to the ground and scrambled for his dropped gun.  
  
Falkirk could see Alec climb on top of the tailor to an articulated lorry and peak over the edge at the ex-Operative below him. James and Maloney shot towards Donne distracting him from Alec who dropped down behind him. Seeing Alec subdue the ex-Operative and with James and Maloney approaching the pair, Falkirk ordered, “Get him back here.”  
  
Police and MI5 operatives joined James and the others to assist in carrying the restrained and injured Beta back.  
  
“M,” Darren called coming into the situation room, looking like he’d been pulled out of bed. He warned that the PM had heard about the chase and gun battles through the streets of London and beyond. “Gareth was called in.”  
  
Nodding his understanding Falkirk went to his office. Pulling open the hidden panel Falkirk stepped into the private wash room. Showering and dressing he emerged the picture of professionalism, the only thing missing was his gold pocket watch. Just in time to hear Darren calling, “The PM's office is on the line.”  
  
Telling the PM's assistant that he was on his way Falkirk ordered Daniel to get Peter to pull out the stops on Donne's investigation.  
  
Walking into the meeting C was already there getting strips torn off him by the PM. Mycroft and the police were also in attendance, all keeping their heads down and trying to avoid the PM's wrath.  
  
The PM was as cruelly intimidating as ever, demanding to know why MI5 didn't take MI6's warning seriously when they had warned them they were investigating an Operative who tried to resign out of trouble.  
  
When Smiley had been well and truly humiliated Urquhart rounded on Falkirk. “I can't help but be reminded of your predecessor. How could you have allowed this Donne to become an Operative?” Urquhart accused.  
  
“Unknown,” Falkirk answered simply knowing Urquhart liked to make people squirm and babble. “I intend to find out,” he added with a cold stare of his own. Urquhart demanded answers and was less than pleased with Falkirk's continued use of short, simple words.  
  
With his phone vibrating against his leg and dawn peaking through the windows Falkirk decided it was time to end the meeting. Pulling out his phone Falkirk checked the text message. “I had two five minute meetings with Edward Donne and I was suspicious. Double O Eight is investigating Donne's latest mission. Q branch is investigating his history, Donne himself is being interrogated as we speak and my plane is now ready. I’ll be back tomorrow with an initial report,” Falkirk stated packing up.  
  
“I will see you when I have returned from Station C, Cypress” Falkirk said in parting. Mycroft flicked worried eyes to him, he was being highly confrontational, challenging to the dominant Alpha. Falkirk understood, few had survived after challenging Urquhart. Mycroft didn't know that Falkirk had weighed the prime Minister and the Prime Minister had weighed him and both knew neither would come off well if there was a real fight so it was just mutual posturing.  
  
\--  
  
Falkirk sat at the private jet's tiny desk with a laptop in front of him. Joanna Dark relayed images, “It doesn’t come across well but patterns have been carved into the skin.” The precise London accent of the far-east specialist said, having been diverted to Dubai on her way back.  
  
“Dafyedd had the same patterns,” Dark continued bringing up another picture. The Image from the local coroner of Donne's target was grotesque and that of the lover was no better and unjustifiable.  
  
Cutting in Peter informed how Donne's juvenile record had been expunged. Looking into the juvenile detention records he found a reference from Borstal but didn't have information on his related crime. “Look for any deaths where the body was decorated in the same MO as Dafyedd, wherever Donne has been stationed,” Falkirk ordered.  
  
Daniel adding, “He has held up against interrogation. Dr Deane is going through his historical Psyche assessments personally.”  
  
“Anything more let me know,” Falkirk ordered and disconnected. Standing Falkirk returned to James who had insisted on coming. Pressing against the Alpha's side Falkirk relaxed against him, accepting the comforting touches. Having his Alpha here for the flight made it all the more bearable.  
  
Arriving at Station C,  a building similar to a post office with the cover of Universal Exports, Falkirk walked inside. A row of counters separated with safety glass ran along the back wall. Punching a code to the door beside the last serving window, Falkirk entered the back rooms and was greeted by a balding Alpha with a deeply tanned leathery skin. Extending a hand to Falkirk and introducing himself as Nigel Fabian.  
  
“I am not here for pleasantries,” Falkirk stated, not extending his own hand. He could see the Alpha's annoyed look but dismissed it, he needed to be commanding and a lack of politeness helped unsettle people, especially if he gave an air of being aware of what he was doing and not caring.  
  
Marching into the Director of Station C's office Falkirk commandeered his desk. James clamped a hand on the Director's shoulder and forced him down into a guest seat. Looking from M to the two Alphas behind him the Director waited for the purpose of the visit to become clear.  
  
Pulling out Donne's file Falkirk started looking over the document. “What were your impressions of Edward Donne?”  
  
As Fabian waxed on about Donne's exemplary record Falkirk cut in, “Would you know of any reason he would attempt to assassinate me when I ordered a full review of his past conduct?”  
  
Falkirk saw concealed and genuine shock at his statement. “No M, Donne has never shown any problem,” Fabian started before stopping. “There was something but nothing came out of it. One of the Admins accused him of sexual harassment then dropped the complaint.”  
  
When Falkirk demanded to speak with her Fabian looked concerned, “Car crash about six weeks after. Neither the local police or ourselves found anything suspicious. She hit a donkey in the middle of the night,” Fabian stated as he watched M looking at his phone.  
  
“What’s the relationship with the local police?”  
  
“Good, the Chief's been in my pocket for years,” Fabian responded. Fabian darted from the room after Falkirk ordered an overt meeting to be set up as quickly as possible.  
  
\--  
  
Sitting across from the Police Chief Falkirk found the photo of Dafyedd and held up the image for the man to see, “We have come across someone, he did this and we believe he’s operated in Nicosia. It would be greatly appreciated if you could assist us in identifying the perpetrator.”    
  
After the Police Chief found out who’d been dealing with the case another Alpha entered. Explaining through Fabian the officer laid out the evidence for Falkirk. The officer believed it was a tourist as the murders occurred during the peak season only. Finally the officer pulled out a photo of the perpetrator, explaining a tourist took the photo.  
  
If you didn't know Donne the photo would be useless showing him from the back crouching over a body, only his left ear and cheek visible of his face. There was no doubt it was Donne. Asking for a copy of the image Falkirk thanked the Police for their assistance.  
  
“I didn't get to shoot anyone,” James complained pulling Falkirk close as the plane took off. Falkirk just groaned in response.  
  
Arriving back in London Falkirk returned to MI6. Tanner greeting him, informing they had MI5 and the police demanding access to Donne.  
  
\--  
  
Falkirk walked into the interrogation room alone where Donne sat, hand cuffs attached to the table, his feet secured to the floor beneath. Attempting to pull his chair closer to the table Falkirk found it bolted to the floor, “Silly me,” he said pleasantly to the prisoner.  
  
Falkirk laid out his evidence softly letting Donne explain in silken tones his reasons for carving identifiable marks in his targets. Confronting him with the photo from Cyprus and the case history Falkirk listened to the perfectly reasonable explanations. When Falkirk prompted Donne on his history at Borstal he again let him explain to his heart's content.  
  
If he wasn't so sure of himself Donne's explanation would have sown doubt in Falkirk's mind. Finally Falkirk snapped his calculating eyes to Donne's soft brown. “You are not very intelligent are you?” Falkirk accused.  
  
Donne slowly shook his head and argued softly and quietly, “I think you misunderstand, M. Even unassigned I am the greatest Double O you have. There are few who are as intelligent as I am, few as driven and few as capable. None with my artistry.”  
  
“Did you think I would be easier to fool than my predecessor? That a bitch wouldn't look too closely at you? Just give you Double O because you were next in line? You're really not good, I saw through you in ten minutes,” Falkirk said shaking his head.  
  
“Your mistake,” that did it, Donne switched, his demeanour dropped the cool and charming.  
  
“I AM AN ARTIST IN DEATH. A GOD! THEIR FATE WAS IN MY HAND AND NO OTHER...”  
  
Falkirk burst out laughing, “I've dealt with psychopaths all my life, you're nothing special,” he stated wiping the tears from his eyes.  
  
Donne tried to lunge, trying to reach Falkirk, reduced to a snarling spitting animal. Falkirk calmly stood ignoring the restrained and ranting man. The door swung open at his approach and was pulled shut by the guard as he passed.  
  
“A thing of beauty, Laddie,” Daniel called as he entered the observation room. The curvy and attractive Beta, Dr Deane raised an elegantly arched brow, “Most impressive, M.”  
  
Alec and Tanner added their own comments. Walking over to the pensive James, Falkirk leant against his mate letting him scent his calm pheromones. It couldn't have been easy on the Alpha watching his mate sit inches from a threat.  
  
“I want a copy of that and set up a meeting with the PM,” Falkirk ordered Tanner.  
  
“What about Donne? The police and MI5 are demanding him,” Tanner reminded.  
  
“Insert a Popper and hand him over,” Falkirk ordered Daniel. Dr Deane made a little groan of disapproval at the order.  
  
\--  
  
Back in No 10 Falkirk led the Prime Minister through his investigation of Donne. Culminating in the final interview that proved he could maintain a persona as long as no one was able to push the right buttons.  
  
“Clearly a clinical psychopath,” Mycroft stated getting agreement from C.  
  
“And it took you this long to discover this,” the PM accused in cold tones.  
  
“He has spent decades perfecting his persona. What I said was true I have dealt with others. Many psychopaths operate every day in the public, as detectives, operatives and _politicians_. He’s not in their league,” Falkirk shot back.  
  
A policeman in dress uniform entered going over to the commissioner. The smarmy Irishman looked like he was about to wet himself when he spoke up, “Donne has escaped.”  
  
“What!” the PM snapped before laying into the incompetent and trembling man, “You had a gift wrapped prisoner and you let him go....”  
  
“Pop him!” Falkirk's order cut through the room.  
  
\--  
  
On the cross channel ferry the lone beta stood as France appeared through the mist and the red morning sky. A cruel half smile played on his lips as he thought about M and what he would do to him on his return. A tingling from his neck made its way into his mind.  
  
Reaching up to the itchy spot Donne's fingers brushed a stitch sealing the skin together. No memories of getting wounded there came to mind and the area was numb. Suspecting a tracer, Donne went the nearest toilet. Wedging the door closed he pulled out a pen knife and looked in the mirror, he caught the reflection of his own eyes and smiled.  
  
Blood spattered the mirror before a pop registered to the Beta. Slipping down, his vision greying Edward Donne's glassy unseeing eyes fixed open, the jugular reduced its spurting as his heart slowed and stopped.  
  
\--  
  
“You didn't trust them,” Urquhart stated as he handed Falkirk a glass of whiskey.  
  
“Only in so far as they do as they’re told,” Falkirk assured. Urquhart gave a small chuckle at his response.  
  
Coming round his desk Falkirk sat as well, the two very much like the first time they met. “You didn't get to see much of the country did you?” Urquhart mused and continued before Falkirk could answer, “It’s such a lovely place.”  
  
Lost in his thoughts the PM mentioned his time in the Scots Guards when he was stationed in Cypress, going on to discuss his special interest in the new border negotiations on the island.  
  
Falkirk knew of the PM's time on the Island but didn't quite know why the ruthless man held such melancholy for it. “You know about my time on Cypress?” Urquhart asked.  
  
Nodding, “You mean the two spies in unmarked graves,” Falkirk said.  
  
“I was their handler, they’d been rumbled, I had to do it, it was the kindest choice,” Urquhart said a touch of desperation in his voice.  
  
“If they were compromised...” Falkirk trailed off, the non answer seemed to relax the old Alpha.  
  
Snapping himself out of the mood, “Thank you for resolving the Donne issue,” Urquhart said as a dismissal.  
  
Crawling into bed Falkirk snuggled up to James intending to catch up on his lost hours of sleep.


	15. Do not Disturb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks for reading, kudos and commenting.

One new Double O level mission and four recuperated Double Os. A fairly simple remove weapons dealer and lackeys then destroy his stock. Three Double Os with a fondness for death and lots of destruction. With 009 as the first to return he should get the mission but with an act of selfishness Falkirk called in Darren.  
  
“Take this to Q please,” Falkirk said handing his PA the mission brief.  
  
Deciding to break the bad news to Maloney himself and give him the better news, he and Alec could assess the half dozen new recruits. It went down as well as Falkirk expected with the manliest temper tantrum he had seen to date from Alec, the sulk worthy of the moodiest of teenagers.  
  
Walking through the flat door Falkirk could sense his mate’s agitation. James looked casual as he moved about the kitchen, “Why did I get the mission?” James asked a bit too tersely.  
  
A simple mission given ahead of those who’d been back longer. Falkirk could see James' point of view, “If you take the mission it would mean you're back for October.”  
  
James didn't see what Falkirk was getting at. He was not offended most Alphas didn’t track something as mundane as dates especially since Falkirk skipped most of his. ”You would be back in time for my next heat.”  
  
“You're as manipulative as the old bitch,” James grumbled, his shoulders slumped as some of the tension drained away.  
  
Walking up to James Falkirk wound his arms around his mate, having to bend his knees slightly to lay his head on the crook of James' shoulder. “You don't mind?”  
  
“As long as you're not mollycoddling me,” James returned squeezing Falkirk closer before pushing him in the direction of the table. “Sit,” he ordered.  
  
\--  
  
Falkirk watched the window of his computer as James' flight status changed from 'ready' to 'in flight' with last known coordinates updating every few minutes. Reluctantly Falkirk closed the window so he could concentrate on his day's work.  
  
An e-mail arrived form Falkirk's agent in New York hours later, Evens needing an emergency meeting. Unable to attend himself Falkirk called up 009, her oldest association within MI6. Despite just having to go and speak with an agent, Maloney seemed to appreciate the chance to get out. Giving Maloney the contact arrangements Falkirk dismissed him and sent an e-mail to Q to make the travel arrangements.  
  
“This just arrived,” Darren said coming in to Falkirk's office and handing over the envelope with the crest of the Prime Minister's office on the back. “Gareth has dragged me to a couple of them,” Darren continued recognising the invitation.  
  
“A bunch of crusty old geezers polishing each other knobs,” Darren complained, with shudder.  
  
“I hope you mean that figuratively,” Falkirk returned unable to see a valid excuse to turn down the PM's invitation to a garden party.  
  
“I don't mean it figuratively and on the bright side Gareth and I will probably have a huge fight,” Darren said with a fond smile.  
  
“Good I can escort you out after,” Falkirk teased.  
  
“Nope that's Gareth's excuse to escape,” Darren shot back returning to his desk.  
  
\--  
  
C and Falkirk had been squashed into Mycroft's tiny official office for nearly an hour. The meeting which used to occur in either M's office or C's now had to happen in Mycroft's. At the end of the meeting Falkirk stood and with carefully coordinated movements, C was able to manoeuvre round the furniture and open the door. With more choreography Falkirk ended up outside as well, shortly followed by Mycroft.  
  
Before leaving Mycroft caught his brother's arm, “I would appreciate it if you became friends with Elizabeth Urquhart,” Mycroft asked quietly.  
  
“I will not oppose the Prime Minister, I do not see him as the threat you do and he has treated me more fairly than most,” Falkirk shot back.  
  
“Of course, I just want you to make a new friend,” Mycroft said, not at all suspiciously and with a pleasant smile.  
  
Not knowing what his brother was up to but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt Falkirk nodded, “Okay. Now I have work to do,” He said marching out.  
  
\--  
  
After the disaster area that was Edward Donne, Falkirk had been putting the next candidate through the ringer. Scarlett Papava the daughter of a Soviet era defector was currently Falkirk's preferred choice. There was very little approachable about her but Falkirk found her curt abruptness rather endearing.  
  
Deciding to give her a chance and much to the annoyed boredom of Alec, Falkirk assigned the next Double O mission to Papava.  
  
\--  
  
When a packet arrived on Falkirk's desk he was reminded about his meeting with the President. Reading over the literature on the conference for Omegas and their potential, Falkirk shook his head. Even the PM who had been labelled as progressive at his appointment had mentioned the benefits of attending.  
  
The timing wasn't the best as he’d be coming out of his heat and then have to traipse across the Atlantic to speak to a bunch of students on a matter he had little passion for. He didn’t like the topic, 'Omega: A role within the Military, Security Service and Intelligence' the title was acceptable but the summary of topics were not. As the active Director of SIS MI6 he could never discuss some things in public, he couldn't even deny some of them publicly.  
  
Picking up the phone Falkirk dialled the contact number, it would be early in America but not unreasonably. “Ms Cregg?” Falkirk asked the person who picked up. After explaining who he was Falkirk was eventually passed to a harassed sounding woman. He described his issues but the woman didn't seem to see any problem with the head of MI6 discussing security matters in a public forum.  
  
“Ms Cregg, for security reasons my contributions would have to be abstract to the point of fictional. You want me to discuss my interactions with foreign countries and cultures where Omegas have virtually no rights. Well every country I have been to that conforms to that criteria I cannot admit to going to, nor can I admit to doing anything while in those countries.”  
  
“Why not? What's wrong with that?” Came the abrupt voice.  
  
If Falkirk hadn't known she was a Beta he would have put money on her being an Alpha due to her blind determination. With sarcasm dripping from every word, “I suppose I could say how I gave arms to an Afghani warlord whose opium was flooding Europe. Or there was that New York cop I nearly shot because he approached me as a threat. Or the Pimp I murdered. Or the man I tortured in a New York Hotel. Any other crimes or crimes against humanity you wish for me to admit to? American agencies were complicit in some of my actions, you want me to implicate them too?”  
  
“Are you sure you aren't an Alpha? How about personal experiences?” Cregg snapped.  
  
“I was caught between three Alphas, my father, my mate and my boss. I went from my father's house to my mates, with little to no choice. Do you wish for me to include gouging out a guards eye who liked to feel up Omegas, or that I was actually forcing my boss to take a stand and make a choice between me, by extension the other Omegas and a man that had once served and fought for his country in Afghanistan and Bosnia.” Falkirk stated, his tone losing the confrontational edge, sometimes it scared him how hard he had become. Asking softly, “Have you even run this by Jack Wade?”  
  
Insisting the brief had to be changed and run by Jack or he would not attend Falkirk hung up.  
  
As it was Jack's fault Falkirk called him next. After explaining the situation to his old friend, Falkirk read out some of the topics the participants were to cover. With a consensus that no active or past members of the security services could be discussed in public. Jack agreed to help to come up with something better.  
  
\--  
  
Maloney sauntered into Falkirk's office dropping the official copy of his report from Evens. “They're gearing up for something, Evens didn't know what but they want some ship,” Maloney abbreviated as Falkirk skimmed the document.  
  
“Pelagic II: Deep sea recovery and research vessel, built by the American government, most of its research is sold to the private sector but its main aim is to recover nuclear warheads in the case of a submarine sinking,” Maloney informed.  
  
“Yes Double O Nine, I know how to use Google as well.”  
  
Despite the light mood Falkirk was concerned with dataDyne's activities. Evens noted a recent increase in the hiring of 'Security Personnel' mercenaries by their true name and the growing amount of unaccounted for money, sunk into 'Project Development'. Now Evens was reporting backdoors into the drones dataDyne had supplied along with a push to outsource much of the military infrastructure.  
  
dataDyne lobby groups were out in force across the political spectrum. Major donations to both campaigns during the presidential and Congregational election didn't help ease Falkirk's mind.  
  
“I'm assigning you to Station N, remain there until further notice. Maintain regular communications with Evens,” Falkirk ordered. He gave Q branch orders to set up an identity and accommodation for Maloney before instructing them to focus on dataDyne as a priority.  
  
\--  
  
The manicured lawns of the Prime Minister's official country residence played host to a garden party. Amongst the guests Falkirk stood by Darren, taking a sandwich from a passing tray.  
  
Falkirk had been approached by Tom Makepeace, a politician who’d been dismissed by the PM. He was looking to find out Falkirk's position should Urquhart have to defend himself from a challenge. It may have been the initial hormonal changes preceding his heat or just his lack of patience with the overly close Alpha that made Falkirk give his true opinion on politicians.  
  
Leaving the man in no doubt of his contempt for backstabbing politicians and informing him he’d never voted in his life. The man with a mane of greying hair skulked away with his tail between his legs certain the little Omega had earned his position in MI6.  
  
The event was just as Darren had described. Those wishing to gain political power or influence were floating about, sucking up to their superiors while they scorned their equals, rivals or those they saw as inferior. The PM was in his element, he was the Alpha and everyone knew it. No one was brave enough to approach him without invitation.  
  
Retreating to the area that spouses and mates had gathered and with Darren beside him Falkirk tried to have lighter conversations with the wives and mates that had been brought along. Strangely to most, whenever a conversation started, the invited politician would immediately break off to see what the spy chief wanted with their partner.  
  
The whole event was like watching a documentary on a classic pack structures. The names of the sexes having come from the pack ranking, leading to the insult of an Alpha by sex could be a Beta or Omega by pack ranking. The clearest indication of this was a man who was fairly young for his position as an MP, standing beside a more senior MP and a Government Minister. He was a little smaller than the two seasoned politicians, far younger about 25 compared to the oldest of about 60. Handsome and in his prime with blond wavy hair, dark blue eyed, sharp chinned and lightly muscled and clearly uncomfortable but unable to separate himself from the two men who dominated him.  
  
“I hate coming to these,” a similar aged Omega said coming up to them as she looked nervously to her mate. The young blond woman looked uncomfortable amongst the sharks and their partners of the event, latching on to the only ones in a similar age group to her and introducing herself as Samantha.  
  
“He'll be fine,” Darren said then winced as the Alpha they were watching dropped his head submissively, as well as the most experienced Omega as one of the older Alphas ran a hand down the younger's arm. Despite popular myths about politics, the group most likely to experience sexual harassment at Westminster were young Alpha males.  
  
When the older Alpha started leaning closer to the exposed neck of the younger, Falkirk could feel Samantha tense and give a soft wine at witnessing her Alpha's humiliation.  
  
“I'm going in,” Darren said. Falkirk couldn't help admire his gung ho attitude. Samantha insisted, “Please don't, Jason won't like interference.”  
  
“What's his full name?” Falkirk asked cutting through the whispered argument, not taking his eyes from the scene. When the Omega answered Falkirk ordered Darren to stay with her.  
  
Marching forward Falkirk fixed his glare on the one he’d seen at a few meetings 'Transport Minister' came to mind. Approaching the man he held out as long as possible but he was no Urquhart, Double O or Brother and wilted under Falkirk's hard stare. His companions followed suit even though they didn't have any idea who was approaching.  
  
“Jason Black,” Falkirk demanded, the young Alpha acknowledged his name as Falkirk moved off, hands clasped behind his back with arms straight. The gesture usually a submissive one but Falkirk made it commanding as he called over his shoulder, “I was not asking who you were.”  
  
A shove from the minister got the younger MP moving to follow the Omega. “Sir?” Black said hesitantly catching up to Falkirk.  
  
“M,” Falkirk corrected as he made his way through the crowd looking for an appropriate chaperone.  
  
He steered the Alpha away from a group with the instantly recognisable figure. “There you are,” came a sophisticated malevolent drawl. Falkirk swore internally.  
  
“Prime Minister,” Falkirk greeted, turning back to the man in question. Moving between the two men, Falkirk let the young Alpha hide behind him.  
  
“Another viper in my midst,” Urquhart accused looking to the skulking Alpha.  
  
Looking to the blond behind him, “Perhaps, one day. With far more experience and training,” Falkirk stated letting the PM hear his doubt.  
  
 “And to whom do you entrust his tutelage,” Urquhart responded fixing Black with a stare. Breaking the staring contest almost instantly, Black dropped into a submissive stance.  
  
“Bloody hell! Again! Back straight, head up and if you break eye contact you will learn why I'm so feared,” Falkirk snapped at Black. Falkirk looked to the PM for his assistance.  
  
The old Alpha gave a ruthless and cold smile, his eyes sparkling at the chance to torment someone for no reason, he nodded his assent. Reluctantly Black did as he was told looking back to the old Alpha trying to stare him down and, making a valiant attempt to hold his ground.  
  
“It doesn’t matter you're afraid all that matters is you win,” Falkirk whispered softly and encouragingly, earning a cruel half smile from the PM as he spoke. The scent of fear increased from Black.  
  
“You're scaring the boy,” a feminine voice said coming up to her husband. “That's the point Elizabeth,” Urquhart dismissed enjoying terrorising the poor Alpha.  
  
“I don't believe we have been introduced,” Falkirk said taking the opportunity to introduce himself to the woman Mycroft wanted him to befriend. He spoke pleasantly with the woman for a few moments as the two Alpha males continued to stare each other down.  
  
Deciding it was time to end the competition before Black had an aneurysm Falkirk moved in front of the PM. The old Alpha's glare switched automatically to the greater threat. “Thank you for your assistance, Prime Minster,” Falkirk said, bowing his head just slightly giving the dominant Alpha a small win over him.  
  
“Before you go,” Urquhart said calling Falkirk back and putting on a soft charming smile that put Falkirk on edge, “The King has been asking about spies, what do they do, what's it like,” Urquhart said.  
  
“You wish me to send him to some hell hole then disavow all knowledge when he is caught,” Falkirk stated getting a tight smile in response to the fairly accurate description of what happens to many spies.  
  
“Perhaps something little more regal,” Urquhart responded.  
  
“A nice tour with lots of shiny objects and an overview of an active operation that could only occur in movies,” Falkirk offered.  
  
“Precisely.”  
  
“I am sure something could be arranged. Will we be treated to the pleasure of your company as well?” Falkirk said pleasantly. “A tour may be diverting,” Urquhart drawled.  
  
Falkirk turned his attention to Elizabeth, “And yourself? Perhaps we could make an event of the Royal visit, with a small reception within the rarely seen heart of MI6,” Falkirk mused.  
  
“How pleasant,” Elizabeth responded politely. Giving his final goodbyes Falkirk took the young Alpha's arm walking him away  
  
With Black's arm in his, Falkirk guided the trembling man through the crowd. Seeing that a lot of guests had been observing the impromptu training session Falkirk found who he was looking for quite easily. Walking up to Mallory, Falkirk introduced Black who was still clinging to him like a lifeline.  
  
“Well my boy that was a trial by fire,” Mallory said clapping Black on the shoulder and giving him a sugary drink. With Falkirk's calming presence Black started to calm down as well, eventually disentangling himself from the Omega. When Black eventually lost his distressed scent Falkirk looked for Darren, nodding to him that it was safe to bring Samantha over.  
  
Wrapping an arm around his mate Black started gently caressing her neck. The group deliberately ignored Black demanding comfort from his Omega. “I hope you're not going to accuse me of another affair,” Mallory teased his mate.  
  
“No,” Darren said affronted before casually informing, “I have access to your intelligence reports. Everything you do comes across my desk.” Darren finished with a smile as Mallory gulped at the prospect of his mate having unrestricted access to the information on his movements like a stalker from hell.  
  
\--  
  
Falkirk tipped the crumbs from the muffin bag into his mouth with one hand as the other touch typed out his reply to the American Omega conference after all mention of the secret services had been removed and replaced with a more generic 'Government Branch' title. Much of the Section Falkirk had been slated to talk in had been reworked since he, CIA, FBI and a few others had read the initial proposed topics.  
  
Sending the E-mail off Falkirk then started to outline what he wanted to speak about. Really the biggest problem Falkirk faced were the people who thought he would be too easily dominated and those who tried to dominate him. Falkirk's experience with Black showed that being an Alpha didn't automatically provide protection from doubts over dominance or dominating behaviour  
  
Then there were the people like Mycroft, a person who went to the right school and university, both as legacies who’d walk into a host of clubs forging a network of connections an Omega could never achieve. Again this was not a problem confined to just Omegas, the less well off would be affected as such as well, no matter of sex or gender.  
  
Remembering the first meeting with the PM the only person who never actually took into account Falkirk's sex. All the PM wanted was his toady in MI6, he didn't care if Falkirk was Alpha, Beta or Omega. Realising the coldest, most calculating and ruthless man Falkirk had ever met was also the fairest.  
  
Sitting back Falkirk thought about what he was going to do when James tapped his door and walked in. Letting his mate just sit in his presence Falkirk worked away on his speech breathing in deeply his Alpha's scent. Using James as a sounding board Falkirk started reading out passages and concepts, usually greeted with a teasing response concealing a genuine point.  
   
\--  
  
Falkirk paced in front of James reciting his speech still in pyjamas. They had taken a few days off before his heat to bask in each other’s presence. Falkirk had finalised his speech a few days ago and run it by the most senior Omegas in MI6, only Darren saying it was academic 'Bullshite' and Guy, a mechanic agreeing with his PA.  
  
James agreed, “A practical demonstration on how to deal with Alphas in the work place would be good.”  
  
Falkirk argued, “I can't advocate blackmail and threats in the work place.”  
  
“Still like the idea of a demonstration, but everything else is perfect.” James stated holding his arms open for his mate. Taking the invitation Falkirk sat across his Alpha’s lap laying his head in the crook of James neck. The gentle nuzzling and caresses lulled the Omega into a blissed out state under his mate’s ministrations.  
  
Throughout the day Falkirk lounged in James embrace. The Alpha made constant offerings of touches, kisses and nuzzling. Every so often James would disentangle himself to provide food and drink all gratefully accepted especially when hand fed.  
  
James couldn't get enough of the changing scent becoming more intoxicating by the hour. By the time they went to bed James had been hard for hours. To be on the safe side James insisted Falkirk continue to wear his pyjamas or they would be exhausted before the heat even began.


	16. I said Do not Disturb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks for reading, kudos and commenting.

Ceri Evens flung open the front passenger door of the limousine. The natural brunette still sported the peroxide blond short back and sides. She dressed in the uniform of white riding trousers, jack boots and leather bomber jacket of De Vries' personal guard. Looking at the generic squat G5 building she made her way to the rear passenger door pulling it open. Cassandra De Vries stepped out giving Evens' uniform a once over before heading into the front for dataDyne.  
  
Following the small woman Evens could only scent the woman's perfume completely unable to pick up on the majority of scent ques Alphas and Omegas utilized. She reminded Evens very much of M, she walked with a mantle of power and command and against anyone but her Alpha she could stand up to them. She was in her late fifties, her honey blond hair in an elegant French roll. The high collared blouse and a wide gold choker covered her neck and the bond mark beneath. Her blue skirt suit more expensive than Evens' apartment, she knew because she had been there when De Vries bought it.  
  
They moved through the dingy mustard coloured hallways to the small conference room. Trent Easton, Evens knew the rat faced man was also an Omega although like De Vries he scented as an Alpha. He was silent for the moment but whenever he spoke he had a nasal voice that grated like nails on a blackboard.  
  
The far end of the room was manned by Easton's guards, the man insisted they dress like concierges in a burgundy jacket. The end she entered on was manned by De Vries' guards, all women and in the same uniform as Evens herself. The two worked together and intelligence indicated they were bound to the same Alpha but neither De Vries or Easton liked each other.  
  
In the no man's land half way down the conference table, between the opposing groups sat a man. Short cropped bleach blond hair, his thin frame covered by a black hoody. When he spoke he was obviously educated, military and English.  
  
De Vries' upper class, upstate New York accent was purring and dangerous, “We want Prometheus,” She said and slid over a manila folder.  
  
Flipping it open, “Not a problem,” came Moran's cocky repose. His creepy eyes were wide and staring, unblinking. The edges of his mouth up in what was technically a smile but looked more like what would be painted on a puppet rather than a person.  
  
“When we get what we want you get what you want,” Easton said with a sneer tossing down another folder. Pages slipped free of the binding, photographs slid out. Evens had to keep from reacting, recognising both the famous detective and M amongst others.  
  
Knowing better than to go for his payment before the deed. “I'll hit the Embassy in two days,” Moran said. Standing, Moran walked out through the door at Easton's end of the room.  
  
\--  
  
Returning to New York the same day Evens excused herself from De Vries' company receiving a snide, “You and your pleasures.”  
  
Arriving at O Evens was immediately greeted by the ever present Omega bar tender, informing her Paulik wasn't in yet. “Perhaps you could call him,” she purred taking his order pad and writing down a number. Used to her actions the waiter went to comply as Evens went to the bar.  
  
Ordering a rum and coke she waited for her company of the night to arrive. “Your companion will be here shortly,” the Omega said retuning to Evens and placing down her drink. Pressing a bill into his pocket and with a jerk of the head Evens indicated that would be all.  
  
An Omega came to sit beside Evens, she could just tell that much and not much more. “Nathan,” she greeted recognising her old friend again.  
  
“Cerian,” he shot back, with a teasing smile.  
  
Leaning in Evens brought her lips close to Maloney's ear. “Sebastian Moran will hit the Embassy in two days, he wants something called Prometheus. As payment he wants information on people including that detective from the newspapers and M,” Evens informed in hushed tones. Removing a press stud from her jacket she slipped it into Maloney's pocket.  
  
\--  
  
Arriving at Universal Exports offices Maloney walked through to the back rooms, descended to the basement and entered the secure suite. He claimed a work station and took the stud from his pocket placing it on a small metal plate connected to the computer. Decoding the bug's memory, a visual/audio log of the meeting played out on screen. Calling up a program Maloney noticed for the first time the shaded water mark style background, a bird attacking a man bound to a large rock. When the animated circle stopped spinning a Q branch handler appeared.  
  
Giving a priority code word Maloney waited for M to be woken up. A dishevelled bearded face appeared, definitely not M. “Report,” Daniel ordered.  
  
“I report to M, where is he?” Maloney demanded.  
  
“He will be indisposed for about the next week,” Daniel said giving a hard look. Understanding what Q was trying to tell him without using the actual words, Maloney relayed Evens' information.  
  
Maloney finished up asking, “What is Prometheus?”  The watermark now obscured by Daniel's image.  
  
“It's in front of your nose lad. M developed a new encryption methodology based on Silva's he called it Prometheus,” Daniel informed. Before steeling himself, “I will have Moran's file sent to you. There is an active kill order on him, you will fulfil it. Go to the Embassy and wait for him. He is not to leave there alive,” Daniel ordered.  
  
\--  
  
Transferring 009 back to the Q branch handler for the technical information to be relayed Daniel got dressed. “Get up,” Daniel growled at the mound determined to sleep on.  
  
Pulling into the garage of MI6 Daniel and Alec met Tanner waiting for the lift. “I want to speak with the toff then the politicians,” Daniel ordered.  
  
Entering Falkirk's office Alec and Daniel waited for Mycroft's arrival. Contrary to Daniel's desire Mallory, Mycroft and Pitt the recently appointed Foreign Secretary entered E Branch together. The Foreign Secretary carried a vacant air of a person who has never actually had to do much to achieve his positions.  
  
Alec opened the door for them allowing the group into the office of M. “Gentlemen,” Daniel greeted. Listening to Pitt whine for a few moments about being woken Daniel growled drawing their attention, “This meeting covers an active operation and can’t be discussed outside of this building,” Daniel warned glaring at the privileged twat of a Foreign Secretary.  
  
“We understand the implications,” Mallory placated giving his colleague a warning glare of his own.  
  
“We have gained a credible threat against the Washington Embassy,” Daniel informed before giving an edited version of Maloney's report, not yet mentioning dataDyne, Evens or Trent Easton.  
  
Only giving the name of the perpetrator and not his sponsor Daniel was slightly disappointed in Mycroft's reaction. He knew Mallory and Pitt wouldn't know the name but Mycroft was intimately aware of it. Advising they would be using this opportunity to remove the threat even at the risk of the Embassy, Daniel reiterated Moran was a national security matter and it was his call before ordering them not to speak again on the matter pressing the consequences if they failed.  
  
As Mallory and Pitt moved to the door. “Mr Holmes, a word if you please,” Daniel called before the man could leave the office.  
  
“Colonel Moran is not attacking the Embassy of his own volition,” Daniel informed when Mycroft relaxed into the guest chair again. “Our agent saw a folder to be used as payment,” Daniel said placing a still from Evens' bug. Sherlock, Falkirk and Keading with Cody clearly identifiable.  
  
“Your father once had an association with Trent Easton. Will he be able to give Moran anything, _problematic_ ,” Daniel challenged  
  
Reluctantly Mycroft nodded and informed Daniel that Easton acted as his father's agent. He had extensive knowledge of their family including every illegitimate child and business dealing in America. “He may know where to look outside of America as well,” Mycroft informed.  
  
“You prepare the domestic front,” Daniel ordered absently, making his own plans for the international front.  
  
\--  
  
Calling the Washington Embassy Daniel spoke to the head of security informing him of the threat and not to make any obvious changes to routine but remove non essential personnel. “Give Double O Nine complete autonomy,” Daniel ordered before disconnecting.  
  
Coming out of the situation room Tanner was moving about the communal area. Calling Selene into Falkirk's office he informed the bodyguard of the situation and handed her a plane ticket. “Go to the laddie's brother,” Daniel ordered.  
  
With the head of the NSA directly implicated in a plan to attack British sovereign territory Daniel decided not to inform the CIA until after they had removed Moran as a threat. Accessing Washington DC's network would be picked up and a Satellite over the US Capital would also draw too much attention. They could only rely on the Embassy's own CCTV network and a few cameras placed by Maloney.  
  
Daniel paced the tactical room waiting for something to happen. Every time a car or van approached the gate he would stop and stare intently. As Daniel returned to his pacing, Alec snapped, “Would you sit down.”  
  
Taking the advice Daniel sat down beside the Operative just in time to see all the feeds die. “Getting reports of a massive explosion,” Tanner informed.  
  
The cameras Maloney set up returned but the Embassy's CCTV didn't. Half of the building lay in ruins, falling into a massive crater. “Double O Nine,” Daniel demanded.  
  
“In pursuit,” Tanner answered. Knowing he could scream and bark orders left right and centre Daniel remained quiet as there was little to nothing he could do.  
  
“Moran has Prometheus,” Tanner informed.  
  
“Switching priority to Prometheus. Switch all communications to alternate. Warn Selene and Mycroft,” Daniel rattled off going to the contingency if Moran managed to acquire Prometheus.  
  
Sticking his head into the situation room, “PM's on the phone,” Darren informed.  
  
“Bugger it!”  
  
\--  
  
Daniel paced Falkirk's office in conversation, “Prime Minister, we expected a break in not a subterranean explosion swallowing most of the building.” As Daniel justified his decisions Tanner and Alec quietly entered.  
  
“This is not good, very not good,” Urquhart growled, like most of his threats it was never the words he used it was how he used them.  
  
Cutting through the rightfully furious PM, “I have an investigation to proceed with Prime Minister. I will be in touch when I have something more,” Daniel stated cutting off the call.  
  
“Double Oh Nine was shot by a bobby,” Alec informed. “On his way to hospital,” Tanner added  
  
“No Prometheus? No Moran?” Daniel asked getting twin shakes of the head in response. “FUCK!” he growled.  
  
Daniel gave a deep centring breath out. “Go to the flat. Protect the laddie at all costs. We are assuming Moran is on his way,” Daniel ordered. Alec nodded and headed out.  
  
Pulling open the office door, he looked to Darren sitting at his desk, “I need a conference call between Mycroft and C.”  
  
Darren  came out from behind his desk, past Daniel and into the office, “There is a way to break someone out of their heat,” he offered.  
  
“We're not at that stage yet,” Daniel responded.  
  
Darren nodded and returned to his desk. His voice came through the intercom announcing the call was set up.  
  
With Smiley and Mycroft on the line, “Colonel Moran is most likely on his way,” Daniel warned.  
  
\--  
  
Daniel was besieged on all sides. The politicians wanted to lynch someone publicly. The press had been told about MI6's warning and where dragging everything from the King bombing back in Boothroyd's time to Silva. Some of the worst muck rakers were even painting Falkirk as unfit for his position.  
  
Daniel was drawing up the orders to assault dataDyne and terminate De Vries and Easton. Tanner and a few others including R sat in the office giving a rundown on the information they had, listing what was known about Moran, the probable locations of Prometheus, Easton, De Vries and Mr Blond, and what was being done to track them.  
  
Darren pushed the door open looking rather agitated, “I got a message from Gareth. There's a COBRA meeting tonight. Mrs Jones has been talking to the Home Secretary and has been invited to attend, as the MI6 representative.”  
   
Daniel sat back, steepling his fingers and resting his elbows on the arms of the Mackintosh chair he was sitting in. The weight of the half dozen people's eyes on him. Looking to the papers he had prepared, only with 007 was he allowed to issue the orders. Alec would do it but there would be a risk, it was one Daniel was willing to take and he was sure so would Alec. Also with Easton being the Director of the NSA it should be M signing the orders to carry the legal requirement. Daniel knew he was pushing far beyond the boundaries of what he could do as Deputy Director. Now with Mrs Jones, someone Daniel couldn't deal with legitimately, without her support it could lead to even more trouble.  
  
“It’s time,” Daniel admitted.  
  
\--  
  
Riding alone in Falkirk's official car Darren fidgeted. Looking out the window, given the ominous events it felt like it should be dark and stormy but it was one of the nicest days that the month has seen, there was even warmth in the autumn sun.  
  
Even though he was an Omega, Alphas where notoriously territorial around an Omega in heat. Pulling his collar to his nose Darren took a deep inhale, he stank of Gareth. Usually a comfort to the Omega but about to face a territorial Alpha it could be bad.  
  
Letting himself into the building Darren called the lift and took it to the top floor. Wringing his hands nervously all the way and humming slightly with the occasional lyric, “The Brits are looking worried...Ooh, ah, up the 'RA!”  
  
The doors pinged open and Darren rounded the corner seeing his goal. Continuously hammering on the door and phoning the landline to rouses the pair inside, eventually the door was ripped open and a glassy eyed James appeared naked, covered in body fluids with a raging erection. A low annoyed growl pulled Darren's attention from the angry red cock with the deep purple head aimed at him.  
  
Keeping his words simple and to the point, “Danger, need M,” Darren said showing the Alpha the prefilled syringe pen.  
  
James screw up his eyes concentrating on the person in front of him. Eventually he stood back allowing the Omega to enter. The atmosphere in the open living space was not as intense as Darren first feared.  
  
“ 'en” James grunted holding out his hand.  
  
Before handing over the pen Darren lifted the bottom of his shirt. Pinching the skin of his stomach he mimed where the injection was to take place. Making an affirmative grunt James accepted the pen. Darren followed in case the Alpha got distracted at his destination but Falkirk was fast asleep. Bites and finger marks marred the other Omega's pale body as James gently rolled him over.  
  
Hesitating slightly as something tried to make its way into James' fogged mind he looked to the only other person for answers. Darren slowly held out an antiseptic wipe. Accepting the damp piece of paper James injected Falkirk and handed the pen back.  
  
Leaving Falkirk to come round in peace Darren moved to the control panel Q had told him about near the front door. Pulling out the paper that had his instructions on it Darren pushed the air conditioner to cycle the flat's air and set it to maximum. A low hum sounded and the scent and pheromones in the air disappeared almost instantly under the military grade equipment.  
  
Placing the information he had brought with him on the dining table Darren laid it out in chronological order from the meeting at G5 to Mrs Jones' preparations for tonight's COBRA meeting. Along with the neatly typed orders for M to sign.  
  
Familiarising himself with the kitchen. Darren made some sandwiches pouring soup out of the can into a pot and making up some nutrient shakes. When Darren heard the shower start he ignited the ring to slowly warm the soup.  
  
James was the first to appear, thankfully dressed but still sporting an obvious bulge under his tracksuit trousers. Picking up a day glow pink shake he downed it in one followed by a sandwich. “Tea,” James demanded nodding to a cabinet.  
  
Ignoring the direction having prepared earlier, Darren flipped on the pre filled kettle and went through the procedure of brewing a pot, just as his granny had taught him. When the teapot had steeped enough Darren poured out a cup and handed James the mug.  
  
It was half an hour later before Falkirk appeared looking thinner and dehydrated. Darren gave him the nutrient shake and the water with rehydration salts first. Alternating between the two glasses Falkirk fixed his gaze on the laid out documents in front of him.  
  
As with all heats Falkirk was sore after. Being brutally mounted by someone twice his weight pawing and biting left an ache right down to his bones. His arse felt like it was gaping and his hands trembled. The contrasting black on white slowly reformed into words laid out in front of him.  
  
A transcript of a meeting eventually made sense after a few attempts to read it. Turning his attention to the still from the meeting Falkirk could see himself, Sherlock and Cody's photographs slipping out of a folder. “Cody?” Falkirk rasped looking to Darren who was watching him from the other side of the breakfast bar.  
  
“Selene is out there,” Darren informed.  
       
Something didn't sit right in Falkirk's mind “Nine?” he asked when he marshalled his thoughts.  
  
“Bullet wound to the abdomen, it’s all there,” Darren said.  
  
Eventually Falkirk reached the orders Daniel had drawn up. He had assigned Alec as the Double O to be assigned the mission, to be deployed first to New York to infiltrate dataDyne head quarters to retrieve / destroy Prometheus followed by the execution of Cassandra De Vries and then to track down Trent Easton and execute him. Signing the order Falkirk closed the folder and pushed it away.  
  
Falkirk trusted Daniel not to leave anything out so read and reread the information before him. Pushing himself to his feet Falkirk entered the large main bathroom asking James to lay out his suit for him.  
  
Pressed and dressed Falkirk looked himself over in the bedroom's full length mirror. Adjusting his cuff links and watch chain across his waist Falkirk nodded to his reflection. James dressed in a sleek grey two piece suit behind Falkirk, straightening his own tie. The Omega wanting nothing more than to be doted on in the post heat spoiling, Falkirk sighed as James stroked a hand down his back.  
   
Darren's phone started blaring as Falkirk and James exited the bedroom. “Q,” Darren informed handing Falkirk the phone.  
  
“Report,” Falkirk stated exhaustion evident in his voice.  
  
“We have lost contact with Selene. Jack Wade has reported an attack on the home of Keading Matthews. One confirmed death, and one casualty, that's all he knows so far” Daniel stated giving the latest update.  
  
“Keep on it,” Falkirk ordered.  
  
Falkirk led the way out of the flat, James acting as bodyguard in Selene's absence. Stepping out onto the curb Falkirk entered the car first followed by Darren and James. Taking calming deep breaths Falkirk focused his mind pushing down on the aches and pains in his body. The lingering scent of his heat clung to Falkirk despite the three showers.  
  
Subtly James brushed Falkirk's knee offering covert support for his mate. Arriving at the building with Romanesque pillars Falkirk was led through the corridors and into the secure bunker.  
  
Approaching the COBRA committee room Falkirk could hear the Prime Minister's soft and unyielding tones as he tore some hapless victim to pieces.  
  
“Just because you are sitting there does not mean you have earned it,” Urquhart said tone malevolent and rebuking to the scared black Alpha woman in front of him. Snapping his attention to the new arrival, “M,” Urquhart greeted pleasantly.  
  
Mrs Jones snapped round to see her supposedly incapacitated superior standing at the entrance to the room. “Dismissed,” Falkirk snapped voice harder than his current frail state and permeating scent would suggest.  
  
Dropping her head, her ploy to gain political support had failed. The moment the PM took a disliking to her usurping the Omega's position sealed her fate. Added that everyone in the room seemed to be better informed added to her image of an opportunity seeking back stabber.  
  
Standing from the large rectangular table Mrs Jones moved passed everyone heading for the door. “I expect your resignation on my desk in one hour,” Falkirk stated as she passed him.  
  
He looked to Darren. “I want to speak with Rhett Butler in two hours,” Falkirk ordered. James' brow crinkled in concentration the name sounding familiar.  
  
Moving forward Falkirk greeted the Prime Minister and took the vacated seat of Mrs Jones. Tossing a pen drive to the technicians at the side Falkirk looked to the assembled group, “What you are about to see is classified: Top Secret and relates to an ongoing operation” Falkirk stated the required line to make sure no one discussed it outside of the room.  
  
“Colonel Sebastian Moran. Tours in the first and second Iraq war, Bosnia and Northern Ireland. Dishonourably discharged for massacring men, women and children of a village. Escaped on route to prison for mass murder,” Falkirk continued to give an overview of the prime suspect in the bombing.  
  
“He was also the right hand man of Jim Moriarty and his Alpha,” Falkirk informed having to confirm to most that Moriarty was an Omega not a Beta as had been reported.  
  
Nodding to the Technician the screens on the wall at the bottom of the room played the meeting from the G5 building. “An agent within dataDyne supplied this recording,” Falkirk stated before identifying each of the participants.  
  
“The photographs?” the PM prompted.  
  
“We were involved with Moriarty's death and Moriarty had a vendetta against his biological father, Siger Holmes which looks like Moran is trying to continue. I was overseer, Sherlock Holmes was the operative of the operation that resulted in Moriarty's death. The baby is Sherlock's half brother,” Falkirk said glossing over his own biological association. “I believe Mycroft and C have been advised...” Falkirk trailed off only seeing Smiley in attendance and Mycroft's name in front of an empty space.  
  
There was a buzz of people speaking as if from a distance or underwater. Falkirk looked at the empty space where his brother should be with growing worry. “Revenge,” Urquhart mused. “The NSA commissioned an attack on a British Embassy,” the Army representative growled. “They will claim he acted alone if they even acknowledge it,” Mallory stated. “America have never extradited a citizen to the UK,” the Foreign Secretary said.  
  
Looking to Falkirk the PM waited for his point, ”M,” he called to gain the distracted Omega's attention.  
  
“Deputy Director Carrington has drafted an order in accordance with the accepted protocol. I signed it an hour ago. I will go warn my US counterpart, he will then ignore our Operative in his pursuit of Easton then everything will go back to its status quo,” Falkirk stated.  
  
“Stop playing with yourself,” Urquhart growled at the Foreign Secretary his hands moving about beneath the table. “Hands where I can see them,” Urquhart ordered looking to each Alpha in turn. All the assembled Alphas placed their hands on the surface of the table.  
  
With determination, Falkirk ignored the conduct of the Alphas around him. “I'm sure we could agree to make Cassandra De Vries and dataDyne the public fall guys for the bombing. We are sure Prometheus will be found in their research facility in New York,” Falkirk continued.  
  
A shrill ringing cut through the room. Mallory looked to his mate with disapproval. Hanging up Darren approached Falkirk whispering in his ear, “An explosion at you flat five minutes ago,” he informed as a man and woman burst into the room one heading for C as the other approached the Prime Minister.  
  
Pulling out his phone Falkirk dialled Mycroft's personal number. Mycroft's posed mechanical voice spoke, “Mycroft Holmes, you may leave a message,” followed by a beep.  
  
Hanging up Falkirk dialled Sherlock next, the default generic voice answered, “The person you are trying to reach is unavailable,” Falkirk hung up before the voice could advise about a message.  
  
Finally Falkirk called John. “Hi this is John, I can't take your call please leave a message.” came John's less precise recording  
  
“Moran is here,” Falkirk stated.


	17. Sebastian Moran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A break from Falkirk's perspective to see what Moran had been doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks for reading, kudos and commenting.

  
-Washington DC: High Consulate of the United Kingdom-  
  
The blond man dressed in grey overalls ran through the streets, a large flat and square computer under one arm. The muscled Omega was getting on his nerves, he refused to give up. Moran ducked down an alleyway, dodging the Omega's shots as fire trucks and squad cars raced to the crater he had left in his wake. Coming out of the alley and straight across a road, he nearly got hit by the squad car. “Police freeze!” Sounded before a shot rang out. As he wasn't injured Moran kept running.  
  
-New York: dataDyne-  
  
From Washington Moran headed to New York and his drop off point. Looking up at the sky scraper, the 'dD' logo sat high up near the roof. He was met in the lobby by a brunette bodyguard of De Vries only differing in hair colour from the one he saw at the meeting in Chicago.  
  
Moran was escorted around the back of reception. Ignoring the main elevators he was led along a corridor to another single elevator near the very back of the building. Descending into the sub-basement Moran then carried on into a winding route of corridors, security checkpoints, a large storage area and finally the labs beyond.  
  
From the subterranean warehouse the bodyguard headed down a corridor and opened the last door on the left. De Vries paced the lab from one end to the other in a rage. The peroxide blond bodyguard from the Chicago meeting sat tied to a chair bloodied and bruised. A snivelling Alpha tried to ingratiate himself to his boss by moving to take the computer from Moran's grasp.  
  
Giving a vicious smile Moran waited until the man was in range then in a smooth arching motion he used a butterfly knife to slit his throat. The bound bodyguard burst from the chair wrenching the knife from Moran's grasp and grabbing De Vries, holding the point of the blade to the smaller woman's throat. Moran's escort now focused on the hostage situation.  
  
Seeing his payment and having no interest in what was going on, Moran moved to pick up the folder containing the information he desired. “Not my fight,” Moran said to De Vries as he edged out of the room, placing the server down as he did so.  
  
Coming out of the Laboratory section Moran grabbed the guard wrapping his arm around his neck twisting and pulling until a sickening crack sounded. He skirted round the large space sticking to the dimmed areas of the warehouse.  
  
Another guard stood in front of the door that led to the entrance of the basement warehouse. Quickly dispatching him Moran burst into the checkpoint beyond the door, shooting first the guard at the connecting door then the woman at the desk.  
  
Moran ran through the other door to the Elevator. Just as the doors opened at surface level an alarm sounded, a voice calling security to the labs came over the speakers. Darting out Moran hid behind a pillar as security guards barrelled round the corner and into the elevator.  
  
Shooting the two guards that remained Moran entered reception, ran round to the side and shot the final two guards standing between him and the exit. Finally heading out into the street he didn't stop until he came to a subway station.  
  
\--  
  
Moran pushed the door of his dingy safe house open dropping the folder on the stained counter of the kitchen. The apartment was small and rundown, a family screamed at each other upstairs. Flipping the pages of the dossier he sorted out the files into location.  
  
He only recognised Sherlock, and Mycroft that Jim had mentioned. This was for him, the abandoned Omega wanting to prove himself to his Father better than his legitimate Alpha sons. Moran just wanted to burn the entire Holmes line from existence.  
  
Curiously, Moran stopped at the brief on an Omega. His chest clenched as he read the file, illegitimate Omega and Director of MI6 he had proved himself like Jim had wanted to do. The melancholy passed as he placed the file with the rest. Despite using his maternal name 'Thomas McLair' he was still a Holmes and he would die like the rest.  
  
It was Thomas McLair that led whoever compiled the dossier to Yorkshire. An Alpha suspected of being Sherrinford Holmes and his son.  
  
Whoever compiled the dossier was precise and thorough, he wished he could read the scribbled notes possibly in Russian given the strange letters used. There where the three legitimate children and a dozen or so illegitimate, even Jim was recorded amongst them, nothing after the age of fourteen though. Best of all, there was a brief list of all those involved in Jim's death, not just the Holmes family.  
  
One of the youngest of the illegitimate children was a toddler in this very city. “May as well start as I mean to go on,” Moran mused.  
  
-New York: Home of Keading Matthews, Cody Matthews(Holmes) and house mate Luke Owens.-  
  
Standing out the front of a small fading yellow house Moran checked his gun and screwed on the silencer. Walking up to the door he knocked lightly. A woman called, “No,” as a blond Omega opened the door, a slight scent of distress about him. He tried to slam the door shut but Moran was too quick. A single shot to the head ended his life.  
  
A searing pain ignited in Moran's arm as holes appeared in the door. Kicking the door open Moran came face to face with the peroxide blond Beta from dataDyne. His target was being ushered out the back by another black haired woman. Shooting the Beta twice centre mass, she crumpled to the floor.  
  
Pursuing through the house Moran could see the two running up the alleyway behind the houses. He took aim at the Omega right between the shoulder blades, where his true target had his head nestled against the front of that delicate torso. The woman seemed to fall and twist in a fluid and controlled motion, a set of twin Berettas aimed directly at him. Moran fired, hoping to hit the omega and the child in his arms as he darted to the side. The spray of bullets from the modified Berettas, bounced off walls and Moran swore he could feel the ripple of air as they moved passed him. He managed to see the Omega fall forward, arms falling open and a small body falling forward and down.  
  
Barely able to duck in to a yard there were shouts of 'CIA' going up along with 'Ms Corvin' and 'Jack Wade'. Always a bad sign if the authorities knew the name of your target. Moran rounded the house relieved that the police cars weren't here yet but able to hear them in the distance.  
  
-London: The basement of Gene's fishmongers.-  
  
Using some of Jim's old contacts Moran was able to take an empty seat on a transatlantic flight not an hour later. As soon as he arrived in London Moran knew he had to work quickly before any of the Holmes clan could mobilise. He had not expected to run into opposition so quickly.  
  
The Irishman heavier and looking far older than the last time he’d seen him was ready for his arrival. The freckly face, covered by a mask with tight curly red hair made the underground arms dealer identifiable in the one piece white suite, protecting him from the chemicals that were being mixed in old oil drums.  
  
“Enough to level half of London,” Gean said indicating the barrels around them.  
  
“Scotland yard,” He continued, picking up a box with Fed-ex livery. It was amongst other courier branded boxes. Gean opened the box in his hand, a mobile phone connected to a series of smaller packets.  
  
Moran nodded his approval of the bomb, “How will you get them passed security?”  
  
“I called in a few favours,” Gean said  
  
-London: Home of Falkirk & James Bond-  
  
Moran pulled the white cap low as the van approached the short block of flats, only a half dozen storeys at most. Getting out he buzzed the serviceman button on the panel and the door popped open. He got off the lift at the penultimate floor and knocked on the right hand door.  
  
The moment the door was unlocked Moran shouldered his way in using the silenced gun to shoot the woman dead. A man moved towards him and Moran felled him as well. Dragging the body away from the door, another man dressed in the same generic white jumpsuit and cap appeared wheeling in a barrel covered in a dust sheet.  
  
“One in each room,” Moran ordered looking to the ceiling wondering about the Omega getting the stuffing banged out of him. The reason dataDyne was moving now whilst the head of MI6 was distracted.  
  
Moran grabbed the dolly pulling it behind him towards the lift, loading another barrel he wheeled it to the lift and back up to the flat. The other Alpha wheeled the final barrel behind him.  
  
Returning to the van Moran lifted the dolly into the back before going to the passenger door. “Baker Street,” he ordered the driver not noticing the lone Omega getting out of a police escorted Jaguar and heading for the building.  
  
-London: 219 Baker street, next door to 221-  
  
Going to 219 Moran set up something special, an initial explosion to take out the wall dividing 221 and 219 then an incendiary device that would burn hot and fast. If the flames didn't kill the detective the heat or lack of oxygen would.  
  
-London: Whitehall Secure Car Park-  
  
For the final of the initial targets, the ones deemed most dangerous and most likely to stop him Moran ditched the jumpsuit revealing a pristine dark blue two piece suit. The secure car park was patrolled regularly with random spot checks made on the waiting vehicles. Putting a white earpiece over his ear Moran approached the waiting car casually, tapping the window the driver looked up from his paper. “Vehicle check,” he stated showing the driver an ID.  
  
Taking note the driver jotted down the ID and compared the photo to the man in front of him. His tour in Ireland made Moran an expert when it came to vehicle checks, he had done them often enough for visiting dignitaries.  
  
The driver a professional in his own right watched Moran like a hawk. “Clean,” Moran stated. As he walked away Mycroft's driver kept an eye on the security guard's retreating form. Moran's companion rolled out from the neighbouring vehicle, attached a device to Mycroft's car and rolled back.  
  
-Oxfordshire: Home of Violet and Siger Holmes-  
  
After checking on Gean that the other sites were ready to go Moran headed out of London as the sun started to set. Just before Moran entered the Oxfordshire village his phone beeped. Sherlock had returned home and Mycroft's car was on the move. Sending the activation signal Moran moved off again regretting he would not be there to witness the carnage.  
  
Pulling to a stop beside a field Moran got out and went to the boot of the functional and common Ford hatchback. From the boot he pulled out a long tubular like weapon and a rucksack containing the ammunition. Loping across the field with the rocket launcher strapped to his back Moran took a position just beyond the boundary of the house and prepared the weapon. With the long barrel resting on a shoulder he took aim of the main bedroom.  
  
As expected the house's security or the reinforced windows didn't matter. The rocket screamed through the air impacting the rear of the red brick country house. An almighty explosion lit up the twilight as the rear of the building disintegrated in flame and flying debris.  
  
Quickly reloading Moran sent another rocket for good measure, more broken red brick and roof slates flying, propelled by the blast that then expanded with another fireball.  
  
-Yorkshire: Home of Martha and Shane(Sherrinford) Ford(Holmes) and their son David.-  
  
Heading north it took him hours to arrive at the next village on his list. There was a light on at the back of the property. Walking up Moran could see a woman moving about the kitchen of the cottage dressed in a pink dressing gown with a towel wrapped round her hair.  
  
The door was old and heavy wood, Moran shot the lock and shouldered it open. The woman started, looking to the source of the noise as the silenced gun thumped and Martha Ford slumped down.  
  
A sudden impact sent Moran to the floor as a mid pubescent crackling growl sounded. Getting the boy under control Moran looked into his eyes as he used his knee to crush the young Alpha's chest.  
  
David screamed as his lower ribs gave way under Moran's superior weight ending on a gurgle as his chest collapsed.  
   
Suddenly the weight disappeared but David was pulled along in Moran's grasp. Shane Ford tackled the man crushing his son, delivering punch after punch. Moran scrambled, having lost his gun in the fight. Shane who looked like a slightly shorter and more heavily built version of Mycroft lunged and Moran gave up the fight for now, running off. Shane was about to follow the intruder but a gurgling splutter brought his attention to his son on the tiled kitchen floor, blood frothing from his mouth and scared eyes going dull.  
  
“David?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added location markers to help track Moran's movements.


	18. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks to those who read, left kudos and commented.

Falkirk walked down the corridor of the hospital where MI6 personnel had forcefully replaced the Police and Special Branch from duty. He wanted this to be his domain and no one else's. He looked at one of the guards in the black tactical fatigues and body armour who’d accompanied Falkirk on several of his trips. They all stiffened as M passed and he liked that he was recognised and hopefully a little feared too, although it could be the Double O beside him. Tanner handed Falkirk the latest casualty report, the front page having been compiled especially for Falkirk based on those he knew or had dealt with.

_Allan, Anne AKA Anthea - Deceased_

_Donovan, Sally - Deceased_

_Evans, Cerian - Serious_  
_-Shoulder wound, broken ribs, fractured sternum._

_Holmes, David AKA Ford, David - Critical_  
_-Internal injuries, severely damaged lung, possible heart damage, multiple broken ribs, fractured sternum._

_Holmes, Martha AKA Ford, Martha - Deceased_

_Holmes, Mycroft – Serious (Stable)_  
_-Shrapnel wounds to the abdomen, internal bleeding, surgeries._

_Holmes, Sherlock – Serious (Stable)_  
_-Multiple crush injuries, fractured skull, swelling of the brain, broken legs, fractured pelvis, smoke inhalation, minor burns._

_Holmes, Siger - Deceased_

_Holmes, Violet - Deceased_

_Hooper, Molly - Deceased_

_Hudson, Angus - Minor_  
_-Smoke inhalation_

_Hudson, Martha - Deceased_

_Lestrade, Gregory - Stable_  
_-Broken leg, smoke inhalation, concussion, minor burns._

_Maloney, Nathan - Serious (Stable)_  
_-Gun shot wound, surgery to stop internal bleeding._

_Matthews, Cody - Minor_  
_-Sprained ankles._

_Matthews, Keading - Critical_  
_-Multiple surgeries to remove bullet, internal bleeding._

_Owens, Luke - Deceased_

_Trevelyan, Aleksis – Serious (Stable)_  
_-Multiple crush injuries, broken legs, broken arms, rib fractures._

_Watson, John - Stable_  
_-Broken arm, broken leg, smoke inhalation._

The following pages of the report were casualty lists broken down by location. The list of collateral damage was extensive. Falkirk's flats, the neighbours, two executed and others like Alec caught up in the blast. Personnel at St Bart's and the rest of Lestrade's office, the two locations hit hard by multiple smaller devices spread out through the buildings.

James put a hand on Falkirk's shoulder as he took a steadying breath. Entering the secured ward sickness and injury hung in the air mingling with the scent of his family and pack.

At the far end looking down on the bed at the person inside covered in casts, face bruised and eyes closed in sleep. The tall form of Daniel stood vigil, arms crossed, eyes carrying a coldness that Falkirk had only ever seen in the Double Os, never Daniel. James broke away from Falkirk to go stand by his oldest friend, he too had the cold stare that was more familiar to him as the two Alphas looked down on Alec.

Falkirk shook his head, Alec had been in the safe house two floors below Falkirk and James' flat. When the bomb went off the ceiling collapsed on top of him, all because a recall order had been overlooked when Darren was sent to get Falkirk.

He stood between Sherlock and John's bed on the same side of the ward as Alec. Both were partly cast covered, with bandages wrapping wounds and burns. John the better off of the two as the fire crew and paramedics found him under Sherlock's protecting body. Falkirk continued to Mycroft alone on the other side of the room. His brother's face looked untouched if a little pale and porcelain like. “Double O Seven you are assigned Double O Six's mission,” Falkirk ordered.

The tension seeped out of James as he turned to his mate, the cold eyes going dark and wild. “With pleasure, M,” James purred.

“Daniel, I want to take control of the Moran situation. Make sure we get our hands on him first.”

“Aye, Laddie,” Came the deceptively soft and controlled voice.

The door flew open and a nurse and porters wheeled a new bed in. “You,” Shane growled launching himself at Falkirk. Daniel and James moved past Falkirk restraining the grieving man. Shane struggled to exhaustion slumping against the other Alphas.

There were no words of comfort that would help so, “Your son needs you,” Falkirk snapped with all the authority he could muster. Shane shook off his anger but continued to glare. Slowly at Falkirk's behest James and Daniel released the Alpha now under control. Dismissing his Omega brother Shane returned to his son's side.

The cacophony of scents finally fell into Shane's comprehension. As he looked to the bed beside his son's Shane recognised his younger brother. Mycroft was connected to a series of monitors barely recognisable by the long lost sibling, only his pale face poking out from under the blankets and bandages.

Shane looked from his son and the source of the other recognisable scent. Falkirk subtly moved closer to David, James a firm presence at his back. Nodding to the Alpha, Falkirk watched over his nephew as Shane went to Sherlock's bedside. As Shane became less of a threat, just the anger from the events exploding forth before coming under control, Daniel returned to Alec.

“Who else?” Shane asked as he stood over the person he still considered his baby brother.

“Mummy, Daddy but many around us. Reports say Sherlock was pulling John out when the bomb went off. Just like Mycroft something tipped him off, he was halfway out the door of a moving car when his bomb went off,” Falkirk informed. When Shane returned to his son Falkirk gave him the top most list identifying the names Shane didn't know and who they related to.

Crumpling the paper. “I let him get away,” Shane admitted, anger and fury permeating his entire being.

“You made the correct choice, David needed his father,” Falkirk stated dispassionately, in the way only a commander could when they agreed with and supported a decision.

The door swung open and Shane tensed issuing a threatening growl, ready to attack any intruder. The blue eyed Omega looked to the new Alpha startled. “Selene,” Darren's Irish brogue cut through the atmosphere.

Walking towards him Falkirk plucked the phone out of Darren's grasp and guided them out of the ward. In the MI6 security guard patrolled corridor Falkirk placed the phone to his ear. The sound of a distressed child was in the background as Selene tried to placate the boy.

After getting Selene's first hand report Falkirk issued an order to Darren to commandeer a plane giving further instructions to have it outfitted for the transport of three patients.

\--

Falkirk entered his office, a tall broad shouldered Alpha with predominantly dark but greying black hair and moustache was waiting. Standing as Falkirk entered the man extended his hand introducing himself as Rhett Butler. His deep cultured voice and older calm scent soothing to the Omega's frayed nerves.

Only now did Falkirk realise that despite their calm professional exteriors every Alpha around him was emitting pheromones of distress, alertness and wariness and it had been putting Falkirk on edge.

James' indirect predecessor as Double O Seven only ever had a single major operation before going rogue to avenge his friend and his wife. Marrying the defector from his first Double O level mission added to his fall from favour in the intelligence community. Butler had been given Station O in Norway as a consolation until his retirement several months ago.

Taking his own seat behind his desk Falkirk indicated Butler to sit as well. “Are you all right?” Butler asked as casually.

“Someone blew up an Embassy then tried to wipe out myself, my pack, my family and my family's friends. No I don't think I'm alright,” Falkirk answered with cool professionalism.

“Now if you don't mind me dispensing with the pleasantries I wish you to replace Mrs Jones as Co Deputy Director, temporarily at least,” Falkirk stated.

“Retirement never does quite suit a Double O even an Ex. My wife looks forward to the English Country house, feels like a knackers yard to me. I think I can sell her six months, then we can talk more calmly,” Butler offered.

As Falkirk gave Butler a rundown on his expected duties and to report to the Alternate site Mallory and C entered E branch drawing Falkirk's attention. “If you would excuse us,” Falkirk stated as a polite dismissal before the Minister could reach his office.

Nodding to the new Co Deputy Director in passing, Mallory then shut the door. C and Butler spoke for a few moments outside. “Are you taking Darren?” Mallory demanded.

“I hadn't thought about it,” Falkirk admitted. Of all the plans he’d been overseeing staff make up had not gone beyond himself, James and the medical staff for the plane.

Taking a moment Falkirk thought about what he needed to do. James would be starting his mission the moment they landed so he would need a bodyguard until they met up with Selene. He would need someone to organise the injured while he met with Admiral Greer.

“Him or Tanner,” Falkirk answered after a moment.

“If you choose Darren, Eve goes with him,” Mallory demanded.

Falkirk wanted Daniel to track down Moran while Butler took up the reins of the day to day running of MI6 so Tanner would be more help here with Butler.

Despite Falkirk’s insistence that MI6 had an abundance of bodyguards Mallory wanted Eve to accompany Darren. Giving in to the Alpha's desire to have someone he trusted guarding his Omega Falkirk reluctantly agreed. “If she fucks up she will not survive to atone,” Falkirk stated voice cold and hard.

A knocking interrupted Mallory's private chat, waving Smiley in Falkirk pulled out a folder. “These are my personal files on the Holmes blood line. If Moran really wants to wipe it out, you will have his hit list,” Falkirk said handing over the folder.

“Considerably more comprehensive than Mycroft's,” Smiley observed flipping through the documents.

“Although not technically a Holmes, Peter Guillam should be warned, he might be targeted too,” Falkirk said.

Nodding his agreement C tucked the folder under his arm, “We will put them under protection,” C stated. When Falkirk asked about Moran C shook his head. “There was a heavy blood trail leading away from Mr Ford's home and stopped at the road. We assume he entered a vehicle but no CCTV or police reports in the area can be found for suspicious cars or erratic driving.”

Falkirk sat back crossing his legs and interlaced his fingers resting his clasped hands on his knee. Looking to Smiley, the short Alpha in the rumpled and well worn suit, Falkirk saw the man suppressing a gesture to wipe his glasses under the scrutiny. “I am aware Moran in now technically a home services matter...”

Smiley cleared his throat, sitting a little straighter. “We will of course invite MI6 to fully participate in the manhunt,” The Director of MI5 assured.

Before leaving, Mallory looked to Falkirk again. “The Prime Minister wants to discuss something with you before you go.”

Falkirk nodded. The PM had been ominously quiet since the reports of the bombing had started coming in.


	19. War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks to those who read, left kudos and commented.

Eve Moneypenny stood in Q branch for the first time since she was assigned to Turkey. The man she shot stood ahead of her along with the man who then shot and fired her. Daniel and Johnston stood at a table laying out equipment in front of them. First up was a small tactical team being issued standard weapons and equipment.  
  
With the time honoured words that Falkirk himself had used hundreds of time Daniel called the assignment of equipment to order.  
  
“Now, pay attention Double O Seven,” Daniel said addressing the operative. The agent in a dark grey suite stepped forward. “Standard Walther PPK, Phone with encrypted line to MI6, ear wig synchronised to the phone and emergency radio. The remaining equipment will be with your vehicle in New York,” Q said as he handed over the equipment.  
  
“Darren,” Daniel called next “Falcon2 with Biometric safeguard, guard it with your life,” Daniel said handing over one of his own designs and a shoulder holster. Darren stepped back and Daniel called forward Moneypenny and Stuart Thomas, an Omega and newest operative drafted in as Falkirk's bodyguard.  
  
“Ms Moneypenny your PPK. Thomas I believe you have a preference for Glock. Both weapons biometrically secured,” Daniel said handing over the weapons allowing the bodyguards to inspect them.  
  
“I want to test it,” Moneypenny demanded not trusting M.  
  
Nodding to Johnston, “Take her to the range,” Daniel ordered.  
  
“M, I know the original may have been destroyed so here,” Daniel said placing a highly polished box with prominent wood grain pattern on the table. Falkirk approached flipping open the lid, a new Falcon2 with full range of accessories. Unlike its predecessor with white metal and Pearl handle this gun had a bronzed finish with something that looked like speckled black onyx on the grip.  
  
“Experimental alloy, almost undetectable,” Daniel informed earning a smile from Falkirk. Making sure Moneypenny was only just leaving Q branch administration Daniel leaned close, “And this I'm particularly proud of,” he said pulling out a narrow silver lighter. Flipping open the cap to reveal the igniter Daniel pressed it, a light appeared where the flame should have been. Letting go the light went out.  
  
Flicking his eyes in the direction of the armoury he said, “Kill switch, just in case. Dead man style, keep depressed to prevent Moneypenny's gun from firing.” This got him a smile and a nuzzle from the Omega.  
  
Falkirk pulled back knowing Daniel was just helping alleviate his paranoia where Moneypenny was concerned. Removing the gun from its case Falkirk loaded it and placed it in his shoulder holster.  
  
“And do try to return all the equipment in one piece,” Daniel called in time honoured tradition.  
  
\--  
  
James sat beside his mate throughout the journey. If all had gone to plan Falkirk's heat should have ended the day before and this time should be spent pampering his Omega as he recovered. Now all he could do was stroke his neck as he slumbered fitfully beside him.  
  
The odd heat scent still lingered to him which was why the only available Omega had been assigned as his bodyguard in case some young buck's libido won over his common sense and tried to claim their boss.  
  
Jerking awake as the plane bumped down Falkirk looked about, the groups of seats with tables between, the desk with a seat behind, recognising the outfitted Jet for long range official missions. The same one he had taken to Afghanistan and had brought Silva back in. As the plane came to a halt and the door opened Falkirk stepped out with James behind him. Waiting at the bottom of the steps was Jack Wade and a police escorted limousine. There was also a Q branch supplied car for James and a people carrier for the four man tactical team.  
  
Reaching the bottom of the steps James immediately broke away taking the keys from the local Q. Getting in the engine flared to life with a roar and in the smoke of screeching tyres the car disappeared into the night.  
  
“Not hanging round is he?” Jack said watching the silver Audi disappear from view.  
  
“He has work to do,” Falkirk responded.  
  
Knowing pleasantries were not desired or appreciated Jack pulled the door open for Falkirk. “In the van,” Falkirk ordered Moneypenny. “Up front,” He said to his own bodyguard.  
  
Guiding Darren in first Falkirk followed and finally Jack Wade. “The UK has gone very quiet. How bad is it?” Jack asked when the car pulled away.  
  
“Very,” Falkirk answered with a note of finality.  
  
Arriving at the hospital Falkirk waited for the blond Omega with his wavy hair slicked back and in a dark blue three piece suite to open his door. Thomas was leaner than Maloney but not the waif like physique of Falkirk or Darren. When Jack and Darren had followed him out Falkirk nodded to two overly casual people sitting on a bench demanding, “CIA?”  
  
“FBI I think,” Jack answered.  
  
“Get rid of them, get rid of them all. Anyone armed in the area will be classed as hostile and will be shot on sight,” Falkirk ordered.  
  
Grabbing Falkirk's arm “I know...” Was all Jack got out before Thomas had the older Alpha on his knees with a gun at his neck.  
  
“The situation is more volatile than you can imagine Mr Wade,” Falkirk stated any sympathy for his old friend crushed deep down.  
  
“I have a formal ultimatum for delivery. No police, FBI, NSA or CIA. A representative of the executive is required to be in attendance,” Falkirk stated giving a nod to Thomas to let Wade up. Leaving the man to pick himself up Falkirk led the group into the hospital.  
  
Selene was pacing the private ward when Falkirk flung open the doors. “M,” she greeted with relief in her voice.  
  
“We're not staying long,” Falkirk said looking over the slumbering Double O with his little brother sleeping beside the muscled Omega. Taking in Maloney, the man looked far better than the others with a similar list of injuries.  
  
“Cody seems to have taken a liking to him,” Selene said looking over Maloney and Cody.  
  
“Maloney and Evans were given something to help them sleep and are fairly stable. Evans' body armour lessened the impact of the shots. Maloney had an abdomen wound, but it was nowhere near as bad as it could have been, still had to undergo surgery and he won't be walking for a while. Keading is in a medically induced coma, three surgeries so far. Doctors don't recommend moving him,” Selene reiterated what she had told Falkirk before.  
  
“No choice,” Falkirk said handing over the Q branch case to Selene, “A gift from Q.”  
  
Leaving Darren and the tactical team to organise the transport of the injured to the plane Falkirk, Selene and Thomas went to meet Greer.  
  
Returning to the car the obvious stakeout teams where gone and Wade was pacing back and forth while he spoke on his phone. “What is going on?” Wade demanded indicating his phone, “The moment your plane touched down travel advice was issued. You're requiring all Brits to leave immediately and Europe is giving a travel warnings to avoid the US unless absolutely necessary.”  
  
“The situation is more volatile than you know,” Falkirk repeated.  
  
Arriving at a building with the crest of the CIA on the front Falkirk was led in. At the security checkpoint they tried to disarm them but Falkirk ordered Selene and Thomas to stand fast. Jack tried to talk Falkirk down but the hostile Omega refused.  
  
Wade had known the omega since he was fifteen and he had never been so cold or unreasonably confrontational, at least not to him. Jack Wade could admit to himself he was concerned, Francis Urquhart was not a person to cross and a master manipulator although the person he still called kiddo could be just as bad.  
  
“Stand down,” Jack ordered wanting to get to the point of the visit as quickly as possible.  
  
Walking into a board room Greer stood like a monolith, large and imposing flanked by two security guards and a tall sandy haired Beta that reminded Falkirk a little of Mycroft. The large African American in black suit was technically a civilian now but still preferred his naval rank over that of director. Admiral Greer's deep resonating voice filling the room, “M, what’s this about?”  
  
Placing his briefcase on the table Falkirk pulled out a tablet. He didn't think the CIA would trust a memory drive given his current performance. Unlocking the tablet he played the only file on it. “This was taken by an agent within dataDyne,” Falkirk informed  
  
After Jack and Greer had watched the recording a couple of times, “You dispatched Jimbo why the attitude?” Jack demanded not caring about Easton's impending death.  
  
“Our Prime Minister is not one to cross lightly. He is demanding the immediate disillusion of the NSA, the immediate custodial arrest of all NSA employees and unrestricted access for British and international observers to oversee the investigation of all NSA employees...”  
  
“NEVER!” Greer didn't shout but his voice filled the room louder than most could.  
   
Looking to the sandy haired man beside Greer and then Wade, “Are Mr Lyman and Mr Wade the Executive representatives?” Falkirk asked.  
  
“Yes, we are,” Lyman confirmed.  
  
Falkirk pulled out a piece of paper and slid it across the table. Lyman, his eyes widening slightly then handed the document on. Greer read over the document, his face like a piece of carved stone for all it expressed the emotions beneath. He then passed over the document for Wade to read.  
  
“The director of the NSA is responsible for an attack on a British Embassy supporting terrorism and indirectly responsible for attacks on the Director of MI6, The Metropolitan Police, St. Bartholomew's Hospital and civilians,” Falkirk said before Greer interrupted him, “I get it.”  
  
“Wait here,” Greer stated moving to the door with Jack and Lyman following.  
  
“You have until my plane is ready, do I have to issue a threat to prevent interference?” Falkirk called to the Admiral's retreating back.  
  
“Not necessary, M,” Greer said looking over his shoulder.  
  
“Tea, Earl Grey, hot,” Falkirk snapped at one of the guards that remained, voice full of authority. Eventually he mumbled into a radio.  
  
\--  
  
The short Omega who entered was unexpected as Falkirk had forgotten he was to attend a conference the day after. “Mr President,” Falkirk greeted standing.  
  
“Hello, son,” he returned pleasantly pulling out a seat and placing Falkirk's document on the table. Flanked by Admiral Greer and Jack Wade Bartlett sat across from Falkirk.  
  
“I tried talking to the Prime Minister. All I was told is that you have full autonomy to issue or rescind this,” Bartlett said softly tapping the declaration of war.  
  
“Not quite full, only if I believe you will comply with the ultimatum to ensure the United Kingdom's safety,” Falkirk returned. Then mused, “A rather unpopular government with a fairly popular Prime Minister that rules his party with terror. This could be the call to arms Urquhart needs, he could crush opponents and those who speak out could be labelled as traitors. Personally I would like to see every member of the NSA burn in hell, having personally sent them there.”  
  
“Falklands,” Greer said giving a subtle reminder of British history when a prime minister really digs their heels in, sending concerned glances to the little British Omega and the cold malice he was speaking of, both personally and for his government.  
  
Bartlett lapsed into thought. Britain had been attacked by order of the NSA Director. European leaders had been spied upon by the same agency and it had become public. Bartlett could admit the NSA was becoming a major national and international embarrassment. However, he couldn’t allow the country or his Presidency to be dictated to. Fixing Falkirk with a hard stare, “I think it's time you leave, M.”  
  
Nodding Falkirk stood, Jack made to escort him out when Bartlett called, “Congratulations,” To Falkirk's retreating back.  
  
With confusion at the final comment well hidden, “Thank you, Mr President,” Falkirk replied, following his old friend out.  
  
Walking down the corridor Jack mused, “This could be last time we see each other.”  
  
Falkirk's phone started ringing despite the jammers the building employed. Coming to a halt Falkirk listened then looked to his friend. “Three NSA agents just tried to assassinate me. Apparently they had orders to target the male Omega guarded by a female Alpha, they got confused and targeted my personal assistant.”  
  
“How is he?” Jack asked, cringing. It was hard to hold the moral high ground when a bad apple kept dragging them down.  
  
“Darren's bodyguard did her duty, no further _British_ casualties,” Falkirk said with cold maliciousness.  
  
Continuing to walk in silence Jack pulled the car door open for Falkirk, “See ya kiddo,” he said with a note of finality closing the door behind him.  
  
As the car made its way to the airport Falkirk leant his head back allowing the weariness of the past week to catch up on him. The situation was now out of his hands. It was a diplomats pissing competition that will not be helped by James running about killing a prominent CEO and the NSA Director. Even with faith in his Alpha's skills Falkirk was still concerned for James' safety in a way he had not felt since the very first time his Alpha left him alone.  
  
'Congratulations' suddenly popped into Falkirk's head, realising he hadn't taken his birth control when his heat had been interrupted. Pulling out his phone Falkirk called Darren, the other Omega was hyper after his adrenalin rush but otherwise unhurt. After asking him his situation Falkirk asked if he could stop off at a pharmacy then told him what he needed.  
  
Arriving at the plane there was a tense situation. The Tactical team including a bloodied Moneypenny were patrolling under the watchful eye of men with 'CIA' branding all over them. One of the flight crew stood at the top of the stairs also sporting a side arm and body armour.  
  
Walking up the stairs Falkirk bypassed the steward and Darren who was sitting with a disgruntled Cody struggling to get out of his safety belt. He headed out of the first section into the retrofitted air ambulance section. Three beds lay across the cabin so the medical staff could move around them. Monitors were embedded in ceiling panels above the beds with wires and tubes hanging down. Keading had the most of these with one leading to a tube up his nose and others connecting to his arm. His pale skin almost grey and clammy, his black hair limp and greasy looking. Falkirk gently stroked the locks that he’d only ever known to be soft, even immediately after Cody's birth Keading’s hair had been well cared for.  
  
Falkirk requested the latest report from the doctors that had been conscripted for the journey. “I'm very worried about the Omega, he should not be undertaking this journey,” the Doctor whispered, the stress in his voice more concerning than his words.  
  
Looking to the prone form of Keading, “I am not leaving him here alone and we're leaving as soon as possible,” Falkirk said turning his back on the doctor to go see the pilot.  
  
Knocking on the door Falkirk entered the cockpit. It was larger than he expected, the two pilots up front with two others at the side stations. Like the flight crew the pilots had armed themselves. “We need to get underway,” Falkirk ordered.  
  
“Outstayed our welcome,” Capt. Harkness observed.  
  
“We have priority and an escort waiting,” the other pilot informed pointing to a fighter circling in the distance. Falkirk looked out the front window seeing the only two planes in the air around what was a major airport, everything else grounded or diverted.  
  
“Don't spare the horses,” Falkirk ordered and headed out of the cockpit and back into the first cabin.  
  
Sitting beside Cody Falkirk put his arm around him and stroked his neck. Looking to Darren, “What happened to you?” Falkirk asked seeing a crescent mark on his neck.  
  
Glaring at the small boy between them, “The little bastard tried to claim me!” Falkirk couldn't help it, Darren's indignity caused him to burst out laughing.  
  
“Would you shut up,” Darren griped. “Gunfights one minute fending off a four year old trying to claim me the next.”  
  
Falkirk giggled again. Perhaps a slightly hysterical edge at the first break in the oppressive stress and worry over the past days.  
  
“This is the captain speaking, prepare for take-off,” Harkness' voice sounded through the plane. The plane shifted forward as Falkirk concentrated on Cody, marshalling his own fear for the sake of the frightened boy.  
  
Before they reached the runway the speaker cut in, “M to the flight deck,” the pilot instructed. Unbuckling himself Falkirk walked through to the cockpit.  
  
One of the men sitting along the side of the cockpit indicated an empty station, “Disturbing chatter,” the man said. Lifting the headphones Falkirk listened to the communications between the fighters and their base. One of the cocky American voices could be heard saying, “We should teach them who's in charge.”  
  
“We will be heading for Canadian air space,” Harkness informed.  
  
“Are we relaying chatter to base?” Falkirk asked getting a nod from Ives the Communications Officer. Falkirk concentrated on the American pilots talking as the plane revved and the sudden increase of weight came upon him as they entered the air.  
  
The pilot’s conversation continued with astonishing arrogance and disregard for human life. “Are the counter measures online?” Falkirk asked. He didn't think the men displaying very typically Alpha Male posturing would attack but he was not going to chance it.  
  
Nodding, Ives answered, “Ready for deployment.”  
  
“One is moving to attack position,” Ives informed watching the fighter move about on a radar screen.  
  
“Weapons lock?” Falkirk demanded.  
  
“Not yet.”  
  
“Like shooting fish,” a cocky voice sounded. Falkirk nodded and Ives targeted the fighter now at the rear.  
  
“Oh fuck! They have a missile lock,” the American pilot's voice now panicked.  
  
Suddenly the engine noise grew and Falkirk was pushed into his seat as the plane accelerated. “The locals won't like a sonic boom over land,” Captain Harkness muttered.  
  
“Radar has jammed, no return lock,” an American voice called.  
  
“They’re pulling away, unable to maintain pursuit. Request weapons free?” Another pilot demanded.  
  
The booming voice was a relief to hear, “Stand down, return to base,” Greer's unique and furious voice cut through their request to open fire.  
  
“Four minutes to Canadian air space,” Harkness called.  
  
“Fighters breaking off,” Ives said.  
  
As a new voice identified itself as RCAF Capt. Baxter the cockpit let out a collective sigh of relief. “At least they're for King, too bad the right country is still quite a distance off,” Ives said.  
  
“If anything else happens call me,” Falkirk ordered unbuckling his belt. He felt the plane start to turn heading out across the Atlantic.  
  
Coming out of the cockpit everyone was deathly quiet in the dim light of the cabin. Cody had moved to the seat across from where he started, Selene was comforting the distressed child as he mewled against her. Darren was vehemently ignoring the comforting hand of Eve on his shoulder.  
  
“I don't want to be blown out of the air,” Darren almost whined.  
  
Falkirk sat beside his PA in Cody's old seat and leant his head against the other Omega's. “I once took this plane into Afghanistan. This plane goes in and out of war zones and hostile territories all the time. It was designed to defend itself against the Eurofighter, F-35 or whatever else could be thrown at it,” Falkirk whispered.  
  
When Darren had relaxed and had brushed Eve off of him, “Did you get, it?” Falkirk asked.  
  
Darren fished out a plain paper bag from his satchel and handed it to Falkirk with a teasing smile. “Shut up,” Falkirk snapped ignoring the curious look of Selene as he moved away from the group.  
  
In the tiny cramped toilet after having read the instructions twice and followed them precisely Falkirk waited for the tiny basic LCD display to show the results. Seeing the 'Pregnant' with weeks indicating '1-2' Falkirk sighed, not quite sure how he should feel about the prospect.  
  
Numbly he placed the device in his inside pocket and tidied away the remains of the box. Returning to his seat he could see Darren's curiosity. At a loss for what to do Falkirk fell back on the choice of the master of spies and kept quiet securing his belt, crossed his legs and clasped his hands in his lap.


	20. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, comments and kudos.
> 
> Thanks to my beta Dragon_fire

As soon as the plane landed Falkirk and Selene where whisked to Downing Street. At seeing Urquhart the line 'If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs' came to Falkirk. The Prime Minister stood serenely, tall, his white hair combed back, his dark blue suit immaculate. His cold blue eyes scanned the room amongst his Ministers and military advisors as each clambered to talk over the rest. It was clear some part of his cold nature was enjoying this, a challenge worthy of him.  
  
“M,” Urquhart's cool controlled voice cut through the room. Guiding him through to a private office Falkirk reported on the events. A part of Falkirk's mind told him to curb the Prime Minister but his feelings where Trent Easton, the NSA and anyone who protects them was concerned, they should burn.  
  
Next Falkirk returned to MI6 to be greeted with Butler having commandeered his office. Darren looked concerned sitting at his own desk. Tanner was moving across the open communal office, “Peter Guillam has set up shop in the conference room.”  
  
In the room with a long table where Falkirk had group meetings, a wall had been dedicated to the targets of Sebastian Moran. Most had a red flag pinned to them, some of which Falkirk recognised as the confirmed dead. Others had the yellow of injured like Mycroft, Alec and Falkirk’s heart froze seeing Daniel had been added to the group. Everyone else including Falkirk, Guillam and Shane where orange for potential, along with others like Selene and the deceased Olivia Mansfield and Adrian Helmsley.  
  
“It's not going well,” Tanner said before hesitating, “Q was targeted yesterday, he is in the hospital, a bin lorry ran his car off the road. C recommended Mr Guillam work from here for now. Moran has been confirmed at Adrian Helmsley and M's old residences. He is also going over territory; Sally Donovan's mother reported there was a man asking after her, she’s confirmed it was Moran.”  
  
Guillam summed up, “He is working through everyone involved with Moriarty's death, not just the Holmes family.”  
  
Falkirk stood looking at an image of one of his half brothers with a red pin stuck through the image. Guillam came to stand beside Falkirk, “Moran took out his observers before starting a fight in the pub, stabbing Billy in the process. He was a good man, troubled youth like most. Received a commendation for his first tour in Afghanistan and made Lance Corporal,” Guillam informed.  
  
Turning away from the picture of LCpL. William 'Billy' MacFarlane to look at Guillam, “Do you know why you are here?” Falkirk asked the blond man so similar to Sherlock in appearance and even scent but not quite as much of a self inflated twat.  
  
“You're my brother along with Sherlock, Mycroft and Moriarty,” came the terse response.  
  
Shaking his head, “You are related to Sherlock and Mycroft by their mother, Violet Holmes. Moriarty, I and...” Falkirk trailed off indicating a group of photographs, “Are all related by a common father, Siger Holmes.  
  
“The same day C gave me the warning a friend told me there was a guy admiring my car. We found enough explosive to turn me into a sizeable crater,” Guillam said quietly by way of thanks.  
  
“Who are they?” Falkirk said indicating a group of photos. They all looked too young to be up there, all children less the five, unless... Falkirk cringed as Guillam spoke confirming his belated deduction.  
  
“After we uncovered Haydon as the MI5 mole your father and a few others were put under a permanent 'Surveillance And Restricted Movement Order', a house arrest of sorts. Alex's mother was part of the on-site surveillance team, she fell for your father and then fell pregnant. The others, companionship was arranged for both your father and mother when requested. A few times children were conceived.”  
  
“Well at least Moran saved me the bother of castrating my father.” Falkirk muttered, Guillam snapping his eyes to the Omega that didn't sound he meant that figuratively.  
  
Falkirk snapped at the room in general before walking out, “I want Moran's head on my desk.”  
  
After spending a few hours with Butler catching up on the day to day operations, the soft rough and deeply resonating voice, also that the Alpha wasn't completely stressed out helped calm the Omega. The exDouble O spoke of a phone call he received and Falkirk had a soft smile as he listened, the older Alpha gave a soft smile in return. He then headed to the Oxford site now Vauxhall Cross was manned again. When Darren came in with an evening standard Falkirk brushed aside the headlines of 'War!' and 'Deteriorating Relations with US'.  
  
“It was positive,” Falkirk said still rather numb on the subject.  
  
“I thought it was just the new drug and lingering heat,” Darren responded.  
  
“Have you thought about..?” Falkirk trailed off unable to bring himself to mention the word children. Darren refused to look at Falkirk as he shrugged his shoulder. Accepting it was not a subject he wanted to talk about Falkirk didn't push.  
  
Looking to the clock on his computer Falkirk logged off. “That should be all for today,” He said to Darren before packing his briefcase. Collecting Selene on his way past Falkirk headed for the waiting car instructing the driver to take them to the hospital.  
  
When Falkirk entered the ward Alec was awake along with John and Mycroft who had a laptop open in front of him. A nurse fussed about demanding Mycroft couldn't use his phone. “Did you have to start a war?” Mycroft snapped towards Falkirk.  
  
“Yes,” Falkirk shot back, walking over to Alec.  
  
Covered in casts Alec was a little annoyed with his lack of mobility. As Falkirk was talking to Alec Daniel hobbled in, a bruise masked the side of his face and he had an arm in a sling. Falkirk fretted over the newest set of injuries until Daniel placed his good hand on Falkirk's shoulder insisting he was well and as M was at the hospital Daniel could now go to Q Branch.  
  
Going to John who kept looking over at the still unconscious Sherlock, “The Doctors are concerned with swelling of the brain,” John informed absently. Before going on to mention his sister had visited and his doctor wanted him to speak with a counsellor, suspecting possible PTSD. John's eyes then turned from Sherlock, cold and emotionless his tone full of spite, “That's everything, your conscience is clear now.”  
  
Falkirk looking over to Shane who slept with his head resting on his son's bed tightening his grip on David's hand in his sleep before Shane relaxed again and repeated the process. He walked up to Selene as she looked over Keading who’d been put beside John. Standing shoulder to shoulder with his bodyguard he could tell the injured scent of the Omega was putting Selene on edge.  
  
Reluctantly Falkirk looked to Selene, “We need to go,” Falkirk said wrapping his arm around Selene's. Walking with their arms linked Selene guided Falkirk to the car.  
  
Attending the Prime Minister's meeting Falkirk supplied the evidence MI6 had gathered against Easton, the NSA and handed over the warnings MI6 had been issuing about him and dataDyne since Falkirk first started at MI6.  
  
With barely concealed fury Mallory spoke, the greatest opponent of the PM now a flag waving supporter, “May I remind you of the assassination attempt on M, conducted by NSA Agents who weren't even disguising who they were or what they were doing.”  
  
Urquhart smiled at Mallory and with honey dripping from his voice, “Quite right Gareth, we can’t overlook the assassination attempt on M nor can we forgive the fact they attempted to murder the Secretary of Intelligence's bound Omega.”  
  
Everyone in the room was keeping their head down. Urquhart was a psychopath that had been out played and he wanted retribution. Falkirk a true Omega fighting fanatically for his family and pack. Mallory an Alpha wanting to lash out at the threat to his Omega. In the course of events, two enemies allied and the neutral participant was in perfect agreement with both. One triad no one else was willing to speak against.  
  
A message came in from Daniel as Urquhart prepared for his meeting with the European Leaders to gain support on the situation. Interrupting him as Urquhart was practising, “Usual disclaimers for an active operation,” Falkirk said before continuing at the PM's nod. “Double O Seven has recovered Prometheus from dataDyne HQ along with a full ghost of their system. With conventional transit unavailable it will be a couple of days before we have access.”  
  
”Mr Easton?” Urquhart demanded.  
  
“He has gone to ground, not even the Americans know where he is. Both the Americans and ourselves are tracking known associates, their families and assets. Be assured Double O Seven will find him.”  
  
After the meeting concluded Falkirk got back into his car. “Home,” he ordered.  
  
The driver made an 'um' sound. Selene looked from her seat beside the driver to Falkirk behind her. “It's gone,” she reminded him softly.  
  
Leaning his head back against the seat Falkirk covered his face with both hands as fatigue washed over him. He knew he’d slept but apart from the plane this morning, or was it yesterday, Falkirk could not remember where the last week had gone. Mewling in a whine, “James,” Falkirk demanded looking desperately to the trusted Alpha.  
  
Selene's eyes widened with the sudden very Omega display. Barking an address at the Driver with a final order, “Step on it!” and climbed over the divider into the rear.  
  
\--  
  
Coming to, Falkirk was cocooned in blankets he didn't recognise. In the darkness he pulled the cloth closer, a very old scent lingered on them of an Omega and an Alpha he identified as Selene. Relaxing at the familiar scent and in the enclosed area Falkirk could scent himself. The thick scent familiar to heat but without the intoxicating effect.  
  
Pulling the blankets apart bright sunlight scalded Falkirk's eyes. Realising he was wearing a strange over sized t-shirt and only his boxers Falkirk wrapped a blanket around him when he stood. He was in a disused single bedroom void of anything but the nest of blankets.  
  
Moving out of the room Falkirk followed the small hallway to the source of noise seeing Selene bounce about a tiny kitchen humming to music coming from a radio. She too was in a long T-shirt with her bare legs sticking out of the bottom. Clearing his throat Selene spun to look at him with a dazzling smile and light in her blue eyes.  
  
“What time is it?” Falkirk asked.  
  
“Ten to twelve. Sugar puffs or Rice Krispies?” Selene responded holding up the two boxes.  
  
“I need...”  
  
“Sugar Puffs or Rice Krispies?” Selene interrupted.  
  
“Sugar Puffs please,” Falkirk answered. Carrying his breakfast to the living room he took up position on the couch and started eating the cereal. “When is my incarceration over?” Falkirk shouted.  
  
“Tomorrow morning,” Selene responded still floating about somewhere out of sight. After getting bored with the high rise view Falkirk turned his attention to the TV.  
  
Flicking through the channels of the TV, the main channels had switched to rolling news of the bombings of London and the deteriorating relationship with America. There was a war of words occurring as American industries piled pressure on the Government. The Government responded by threatening to seize all American owned assets and treat anyone who spoke out as sympathisers to an enemy in a time of war.  
  
Selene finished up what she was doing and entered the living room. Making space Falkirk let the Alpha sit before leaning back against her and relaxing. Suspecting the answer but needing to know “Are we secure?” Falkirk asked.  
  
“Yes. I kept the place but I have not been back here for...a long time.”  
  
“Was this Michael’s?” Falkirk asked lifting a corner of the blanket he was wrapped in, indicating the almost non-existent scent.  
  
“Yes” Selene responded lifting her arm over Falkirk's shoulder, grasping the blanket rubbing it between her fingers.  
  
“You still smell like you're in heat, but not,” Selene said breaking out of her memories. The scent obviously confusing to her. Usually only Omegas noticed the scent of pregnancy.  
  
Groaning in response Falkirk flopped his head against the couch. “I'm pregnant,” he admitted getting an expletive, “What!” in response.  
  
\--  
  
Peter had finally acquired the CCTV from the hospital and Falkirk was comparing it to the reports on the misdirected assassination attempt.  
  
Keading had been loaded into an ambulance. When the vehicle had pulled away Moneypenny grabbed Darren flinging the delicate Omega with curly dark hair into a door way taking up a defensive position along with a member of the tactical squad as gunfire was exchanged. He watched Moneypenny fling herself to the side covering Darren as she fired. Her body shook with an impact in mid air, as Falkirk had seen her on the plane the body armour must have deflected the shot enough.  
  
Delicately Moneypenny picked herself up going out of shot she returned carrying a pile of phones, wallets, IDs and badges. Darren, fidgeting and bouncing with wild eyes looked about and brushed down his blue suit. Falkirk had to admit that there was a similarity between him and his PA, but that was no excuse.  
  
Reading over the reports as well Falkirk did something he thought he ever would when it came to Eve Moneypenny. Pulling out the standard document rarely issued he filled in Moneypenny's details along with the reference to the reports on the assassination attempt. Falkirk signed it and then with the gold foil seal he pressed the lever of the heavy stamp, leaving the embossed MI6 coat of arms.  
  
Moving on Falkirk turned his attention to the other operations occurring around the world. Only the Double Os answered directly to him but he needed to know what was going on. When Darren entered and hesitated to put Falkirk's 'M' scrabble mug down,” The website says caffeine is bad,” Darren said placing down something that was defiantly not Earl Grey.  
  
“It smells worse than Daniel's pipe,” Falkirk complained before warning, “If you say it's good for me...” Pointing an accusing finger at his PA.  
  
“It is,” Darren shrugged walking out unfazed.  
  
Peter Guillam ran out of E branch drawing Falkirk's attention. Heading to the commandeered conference room, “Report,” Falkirk barked to the unknown staff members moving about.  
  
“Rockford Centre, a rehab facility in the Midlands recently got a new patient matching Moran's description,” A beta female informed before pointing to the mug shot of a skinhead with glassy eyes. “Current residence of Dickie Doriean.”  
  
Shaking his head at his brother's picture, Richard Doriean had floated from youth offender’s institutes to rehab, mental instantiations to prisons and back to rehab. Now there was a man looking for him and they may not get there in time. “Have Guillam report to me when he gets back,” Falkirk ordered and returned to his office.  
  
When Guillam returned the lights were going on in the office and around London. “Moran got his target,” Guillam reported.  
  
“Double O Five will be returning from Warsaw. He will assist you.” Falkirk stated.  
  
“I can get the bastard,” Guillam snapped beginning to pace the room.  
  
“You're a 'Scalphunter' or whatever MI5 call it. You turn agents you don't participate in short term operations.”  
  
Snapping a glare to Falkirk at his assessment of Guillam's credentials. “Glare all you wish _Mister_ Guillam but my word is final and you are free to return to MI5 any time you wish,” Falkirk stated in unrushed certainty, before snapping, “Dismissed.”  
  
Returning to the conference room Guillam marched like a thunder cloud, the office workers jumping out of his way.  
  
Turning back to his work a wave passed over the office workers starting at the main entrance as everyone looked up. Coming out of his office Falkirk could feel the tension in the room as Mallory escorted Moneypenny through. Moneypenny for her part was looking about, expecting an attack from any side.  
   
Guillam came to the door of the conference room to see why the noise in the outer office had died away. Tanner was whispering intently into his ear as he looked between Moneypenny and Falkirk.  
  
“Ms Moneypenny, welcome,” Falkirk greeted standing aside to allow her and Mallory to enter. Walking around his desk as the guests took a seat Falkirk pulled out a couple of glasses while Darren packed up for the night. He handed a glass of bourbon to both Mallory and Moneypenny.  
  
Mallory broke the silence first, “I was surprised when reception said you wanted to see Eve.”  
  
“Yes, I...” Falkirk stilled his movement to his desk drawer when Moneypenny subtly tensed in preparation. Slowly Falkirk straightened up and pulled open the left side of his jacket, “Not in my drawer,” Falkirk said letting Moneypenny see the gun nestled in his shoulder holster.  
  
“The bourbon isn't poisoned either,” Falkirk added seeing Moneypenny's untouched glass.  
  
“Quite good actually,” Mallory said making a show of sipping his glass.  
  
Reaching slowly into the drawer Falkirk pulled out the document he’d signed earlier. “After assessing the reports and the evidence, for not only protecting your charge but for remaining professional and supplying further evidence of benefit to MI6 and the United Kingdom, I would like to award you a commendation.”  
  
It wasn't much just a piece of paper and a note in an electronic file but it was official recognition of doing something well enough to be noticed and acknowledged. “I bet you feel dirty after that,” Darren said from the door way.  
  
“Not at all. All that can ever be asked of any man is he does his duty and to acknowledge when he does,” Falkirk said.  
  
“Thanks,” Moneypenny said stiffly taking the certificate from Falkirk's grasp.  
  
Moneypenny remained quiet as Mallory finished up his drink giving a rundown on events in the political world. In parting Moneypenny gave a curt, “M,” With a nod as she followed Mallory and Darren out. Falkirk came to the conclusion there was just too much bad blood and mistrust between them and politeness was the best they could expect from their relationship.  
  
Selene appeared at his door not long after. “Home time,” she stated going over to the concealed door of Falkirk's wash room. Taking out his coat she held it open, “Your brother has ordered proper food to be delivered to the Hospital. I told him to order something for you too.”  
  
The ward was still quiet with most of its inhabitants still under heavy medication. Selene immediately detached and headed for Keading. A nurse was diligently cutting up Alec's meal and feeding it to him. In between mouthfuls he complimented Mycroft on his dining choices.  
  
A full dinner placement had been laid out on the table across Mycroft's bed. Prying open a thermal container Falkirk stole Mycroft's desert fork and started eating the steamed vegetables. “There are plates,” Mycroft chastised.  
  
Seeing the space beside David absent, “Where's Shane?” Falkirk asked around a sugarsnap pea.  
  
“He wished to meet our youngest brother.”  
  
Further disturbing Mycroft's careful layout Falkirk plucked the laptop placing it on the bed where he could use it. “Do you mind,” Mycroft snapped quietly.  
  
“No, not really,” Falkirk responded absently clicking away.  
  
Moving on to a piece of breaded beef and pasta Falkirk left half of it, “Eat,” he ordered looking to Selene holding the container out for her. Coming over she took the container from his grasp.  
  
“That one looks nice,” Selene said seeing the picture of a town house on the laptop's screen.  
  
The doors of the ward opened and Shane wheeled in Maloney with Cody sitting on the Omega Operative's lap. Immediately Cody started squirming calling, “Mom.”  
  
Going over Selene removed the child from 009's lap before he could inflict further damage to the Operative.  
  
Sitting him on the edge of the bed Cody reached out to his still sedated Papa. Falkirk returned Mycroft's laptop to the table before joining Selene and his brother. Shane returned to David's side while Maloney wheeled himself to Alec.  
  
Cody tried shaking the arm of his mother looking beseechingly to Selene and Falkirk when nothing happened. Not able to understand beyond something bad had happened Cody's eyes watered as he cried silently into his big brother's chest.  
  
Falkirk stroked Cody's head and back as he cried. When Cody stopped supporting his own weight Falkirk confirmed he had fallen asleep. Picking Cody up Falkirk carried him as Selene whispered “Should you be...”  
  
Understanding but not liking her over protectiveness Falkirk glared at Selene until she stopped talking.  
  
Pulling the covers of an unused bed aside Falkirk lay the sleeping child down. As Falkirk tucked him in Shane came over, “I'll keep an eye on him,” he whispered.  
  
Getting into the car Falkirk read out an address from his phone, Selene as his bodyguard objecting to the change of schedule. Arriving at a squat complex of flats Falkirk looked to the nondescript van with silvered out passenger window, the ex Holmes butler wasn't believed to be a target but he was being watched anyway. They entered the correct building and found the first floor flat. Falkirk knocked and waited as an old fashioned cockney accent shouted to someone else in the flat, “Stop being so bloody paranoid will you.”  
  
A slight shift in light from the peep hole indicated someone was on the other side. When the light returned to the tiny glass lens the door opened. An older, balding yellow blond haired Alpha stood in a casual suit, his sharp blue eyes pleased to see Falkirk. “Mr Bond,” Angus Hudson greeted standing back to allow Falkirk to enter.  
  
“More bloody spooks,” a tall lanky Alpha with grey hair said looking to Falkirk and Selene coming into his lounge. Mr Hudson introduced the flat's owner as Harry Brown a friend from his old SAS days.  
  
“Hello my dear,” Harry said all charm ignoring Falkirk in favour of Selene.  
  
Leaving Selene to the silver tongued man Falkirk concentrated on Mr Hudson. Being polite Falkirk asked after him already knowing he barely had a few bruises from the attack on the Holmes house. Mr Hudson was also experienced enough to know not to blame himself for something he couldn't predict or defend against.  
  
Coming to a natural break the man gave his condolences. It took Falkirk a few moments to realise Hudson was talking about his parents. When Siger and Violet Holmes had been cut out of Falkirk's life it had been a relief and now they were gone they were the last people on Falkirk's list to mourn.  
  
“Have you had any enquiries?” Falkirk asked bringing the conversation to the point of his presence.  
  
“A few,” the soft rolling Scots voice said.  
  
Brown spoke up from his seat at a small table where he had been instructing Selene on a chess game, “A few, a few today, a few yesterday and a few the day before.”  
  
“I haven't got anything formal but I could use your help,” Falkirk said to the old Butler.  
  
“I don't think the other Mr Bond cares for my presence,” Mr Hudson responded.  
   
“That's just James, he does respect you,” Falkirk insisted  
  
“Just wait until you get to know him, then he gets really grumpy,” Was Selene's snarky addition.  
  
“Would you take the bloody job, you want to and you're starting to mope,” Brown said.  
  
“Very well,” Mr Hudson agreed. Making arrangements to meet at MI6 the next day Falkirk returned to the disused flat of Selene and her long deceased Omega.


	21. To return to the scene...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, kudos and comments. They are always appreciated.
> 
> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.

Falkirk visited Q branch, the old PA and office manager looked to him as he passed. He gave a soft greeting to both but didn't stop, the two Omegas clearly able to scent the change to him.  
  
He headed for the small glass fronted office at the back of the room where Handlers communicated with the infield Operatives and Agents. Falkirk listened in on James and Daniel. 007 reported he was on his way to an air base in Alaska, hopefully ahead of Easton so he could lay in wait for the NSA Director. When 007 signed off Falkirk had to restrain himself from calling to his Alpha. Daniel wasn't his target so Falkirk gave the Alpha a brief greeting before moving on.  
  
Taking Derrick one of the Q Branch project mangers Falkirk returned to his E Branch. Mr Hudson was waiting in his office with a cup of tea when Falkirk and Derrick arrived. Indicating Derrick should wait outside Falkirk entered. Hudson stood, respectful of an omega or as a superior it was still the same gesture. “The same terms and conditions as when employed by my father to be renegotiated in six months,” Falkirk offered. With the terms of employment accepted Falkirk waived in the Q branch manager.  
  
Taking out a mound of prospectuses Falkirk asked Mr Hudson to whittle the houses down to a manageable few, instructing Derrick to give his opinion on security and modifications. Giving an overview of his desires Falkirk showed his guests to the door saying a car was waiting for them. Letting Derrick go first Falkirk caught Hudson's arm, “Something suitable for an expanding family,” He whispered. A moment of confusion passed the Alpha's round face before giving a pleased smile and a nod.  
  
To say Falkirk got any work done would have been a bit of a lie, the computer had automatically locked without Falkirk's notice. “M, your appointment,” Darren said pushing his door open. Selene was waiting just beyond. Numbly Falkirk gathered his coat and followed Selene to the car.  
  
Arriving at the street that looked like high end houses, that were in fact offices of various doctors. Ringing the bell of a practice that was on the Security Service approved list a woman in a traditional nurses uniform pulled the door open.  
  
The inside looked like the converted house it was. A spacious foyer making a rather cramped reception.  
  
“Bond” Falkirk said to the nurse as she checked his name off. Escorting Falkirk upstairs the nurse guided him to a room.  
  
They arrived at the street that looked like high end houses but were in fact offices of various doctors. Ringing the bell of a practice that was on the Security Service approved list a woman in a traditional nurse uniform pulled the door open.  
  
The inside looked like a converted house it was. A spacious foyer making a rather cramped reception.   
  
“Bond,” Falkirk responded to the nurse as she checked his name off. Escorting Falkirk upstairs the nurse guided him to a room.   
  
With a curt, “Wait,” The nurse sent a superior look to the Omega then the Alpha, her glance sweeping round as she turned to leave.  
  
“A face like a slapped arse and personality to match,” Selene said indicating the closed door, trying to take Falkirk's mind off the upcoming examination.  
  
When the Doctor entered, a plump Beta with her hair in a beehive Selene looked her over. In most situations it would be Selene as the Alpha who would be greeted first but the doctor called out, “Mr Bond.”  
  
The doctor through experience or an iron will didn't react when Selene pulled the door open to take up a guard position on the other side. This left the Omega alone, clearly not his Alpha yet escorting him so soon after a heat.  
  
Brushing off the odd dynamic between Alpha and Omega the doctor introduced herself as Doctor Frost something Falkirk already knew, there was nothing he didn't know about the woman.  
  
Taking careful notes on the circumstances around conception the Doctor did little more than confirm pregnancy and advice on lifestyle.  
  
Voicing her concern with his evasiveness over certain questions Falkirk fixed the doctor with the look Olivia Mansfield had taught him. The one where a Double O had made life particularly difficult for her, “I am Director of MI6 there are subjects and their circumstances I will never discuss,” Falkirk delivered in his hardest and coldest tone.  
  
Giving a meek but poised, “Of course,” the Doctor dropped the subject. Returning to her professional demeanour Frost suggested Falkirk return in a couple of weeks for a follow up. With leaflets in hand Falkirk pulled open the door feeling a little under whelmed by the appointment.  
  
“No stress and gentle exercise,” Doctor Frost called earning a snort from Selene.  
  
\--  
  
“MISTER Addison you are to report to me before starting your next assignment,” Falkirk bellowed across E branch at the operative standing with Guillam in the briefing room. The Double O darted across the communal office, Darren wagging his finger at the Operative as he followed M into the office. Addison gave a wink in response to the teasing PA.  
  
“You fucked the German finance minister's daughter,” Falkirk accused.  
Giving a shrug typical to the Double Os, “I thought she was just...” Addison trailed off at the glare M sent him.  
  
“She wasn't,” Falkirk shot back, not caring how he sentence was meant to end.  
  
“You don't usually care who we seduce,” Addison asked carefully.  
  
“As long as they can't get my direct number I don't,” Falkirk shot back pointing to the phone. Actually it was Butler who took the call but Falkirk had to keep up appearances for the Operatives. Continuing the ceremonial lecture, in the vain hope the Operative didn’t develop a runaway ego. Eventually ordering 005 to report to Guillam and to keep him informed Falkirk dismissed the Operative.  
  
\--  
  
Mallory was having his usual drink, which Falkirk no longer joined in with while Darren finished up for the night. “Mr Hudson” Darren informed over the intercom. Showing his guest out of his office Falkirk watched as the Alpha wrapped an arm around his mate and walked him away.  
  
Nodding to Hudson Falkirk entered his office, his butler following him. Taking the prospectuses from Hudson Falkirk started leafing through them. Of the dozen he had given the older man only four remained, two of which had extensive constructive notes scribbled on them.  
  
The two with the most notes were empty. One a modern refurbishment with extensive modifications beneath the facade. The other had been in a family for generations, the last of the once plentiful money and assets finally gone with the latest set of death duties. It needed refurbishment and a bit of updating but Falkirk was drawn to it more than the other.  
  
“Arrange viewings tomorrow...” Falkirk trailed off looking to his computer for an available time slot. A note he had made days before prominent, deciding to view the houses before he went to the funeral, Hudson and Falkirk arranged the time accordingly.  
  
When Falkirk arrived at the hospital Mycroft was taking a few careful steps about the ward with the assistance of a walking stick, the other arm holding his clearly hurting midsection. Alec was annoyed as ever, immobile.  
  
When Mycroft's order arrived Falkirk dismissed the nurse cutting up Alec’s food. Stabbing a strip of beef, in some sort of red sauce but wasn't tomato and smelt heavily of paprika Falkirk brought it to Alec's mouth. Alec then complaining as the forkful veered away and into Falkirk's mouth on the next bite.  
  
“When does Daniel visit?” Falkirk asked.  
  
“Mornings and stop stealing my food.”  
  
\--  
  
Returning to the hospital in the morning Daniel stood over Alec's bed while Mycroft and a nurse where having a quiet argument. Shane was still dozing in a chair by David's bed. John was awake and having breakfast. Sherlock, David and Keading were still unconscious by medical intervention. Cody slept on rumbling lightly every now and again.  
  
“I need to tell you something,” Falkirk said quietly to Alec and Daniel. Gaining the pair's full attention, Falkirk took a breath before continuing softly, “I'm pregnant.”  
  
“I told you,” Alec hissed at Daniel. Vindicated triumph in his voice.  
  
“You want me to rip the basta...” Daniel trailed off at Falkirk’s glare, then dropping the teasing over protective routine, “Ah, you want the other one. Congratulations on the miracle of creation.”  
  
Daniel gave a soft, genuine smile and pulled Falkirk into a hug. The Omega nuzzled into the big Alpha's neck, until a tickling at the side of his leg drew Falkirk's attention to Alec.  
  
The injured man had managed to move his plaster cast arm to the edge of the bed and Alec made as much contact as his finger tips allowed. Gently and above all carefully Falkirk nuzzled Alec as well before pulling back.  
  
“Well I have houses to view and work to do,” Falkirk stated before making a quick gesture placing a single finger to his lips.  
  
“I'll make sure he doesn’t gossip,” Daniel teased indicating Alec and getting an annoyed exclamation in response.  
  
“A moment,” Mycroft called, gingerly following Falkirk using a walking stick for support. “Could I trouble you for a lift? I can requisition an MI6 car when we get there,” Mycroft stated continuing to move as fast as he could towards the exit before the nurse arrived with reinforcements.  
  
“I have a few engagements before...” Falkirk trailed off, Mycroft was hearing what he was saying but not listening to a word of it.  
  
Helping Mycroft into the car Falkirk repeated his concern about his brother discharging himself. Again the Alpha wasn't really paying attention.  
  
Realising the car wasn't headed in the correct direction Mycroft looked to his brother. “What engagements?” Mycroft demanded remembering the words from several minutes earlier.  
  
“Two house viewings and a funeral.”  
  
“Why are you so determined?” Falkirk asked truly not understanding why Mycroft was pushing himself.  
  
“Urquhart is trying to replace me. Perhaps dismantle the entire Intelligence department,” Mycroft said.  
  
“There is no point killing yourself over it” Falkirk insisted.  
  
“I don't think I can defeat him,” Mycroft admitted.  
  
“Have you ever been mounted?” Falkirk asked in all seriousness. Falkirk could see Selene's shoulder shake in silent laughter up front while Mycroft looked scandalised. “An unceremonious affair and a brutal act of possession. Trust is required on both sides. An Omega must trust the Alpha to hold back while an Alpha must have the loyalty of the Omega. When it's all over an Alpha is spent laying there physically, mentally and emotionality exhausted,” Falkirk informed before gravely adding, “The breaking bond hurts but, every Operative that has carelessly mounted an Omega never woke up from that spent sleep.”  
  
“So?” Mycroft demanded, uncomfortable and clearly embarrassed.  
  
“Wait, hold on by nail and tooth. Wait until he is spent then rip out his throat when he can't move,” Falkirk said in deathly cold statement.  
  
The silence was broken by the car pulling to a stop. Getting out Falkirk helped Mycroft who followed him. The town house looked rundown but if its neighbours where anything to judge by it could be spectacular. The dirty cream facade was cracked and peeling. Counting the roof and basement in it was five storeys.  
  
Climbing up the several wide steps to the pillar supported arch containing a wide, what once would have been gloss black door with tarnished brass lion's head knocker and round handle. Using the ring in the lion's mouth Falkirk knocked and Hudson pulled it open dressed in suit and overcoat, a bowler hat tucked under his arm. Standing aside he allowed Falkirk to enter. Mycroft stared at the man for a moment longer than necessary.  
“So that’s why he turned me down,” Mycroft whispered. Not sure about the timelines but nodding anyway Falkirk passed into the foyer.  
  
A slimy Alpha in expensive Italian suit that had only ever seen the Chinese factory and overpriced London shops waited for them beside the Q branch Project Manager.  
  
Directly across from the front door was a wide single door. The foyer had a staircase on the right with a short corridor leading off at the base, a double set of closed doors to the left and a single door further along the left wall.  
  
“Allow me to guide you,” the estate agent said stepping forward.  
  
“No,” Falkirk responded. When he made to continue a warning glare from Hudson put him in his place. Detaching himself from Mycroft Falkirk headed to the first door to draw his attention.  
  
Walking forward through the single door Falkirk entered the empty library. A fireplace on the right and empty book shelves around the room only the door, fireplace and window devoid of shelving. Imagining an old oak desk pressed to the window and looking over the back garden, Falkirk shook his head he didn't like working with his back to the door. There was plenty of room for a nice desk and even a seating area in front of the fire in the large room. Already Falkirk claimed the room as an office.  
  
Coming out of the library Falkirk went through the double doors to the side of the foyer. A large room ran the depth of the house. A partition about two thirds along the room allowed it to be divided. The double doors allowed access to the larger front section and the single door allowed access to the smaller back when the partition was closed. Wooden floors and moulded cornicing were in desperate need of being cleaned. At the back, French doors dominated the far end opening onto a small terrace. Steps led down to the long unkempt garden and large two story garage to the rear.  
  
Coming out of the lounge/dining room Falkirk entered the black and white tiled foyer. The estate agent was giving the sales pitch to the assembled Alphas. Climbing the stairs, “I am the one buying the house not them,” Falkirk snapped.  
  
Four good sized bedrooms greeted Falkirk, an arcane family bathroom and no en-suites. The Master bedroom at the front had promises, a huge dressing room could be converted. The floor above had been divided, four servant's quarters hidden behind a door at the rear and another two guest/children's room at the front of the house.  
  
Opening the door beside the bathroom Falkirk climbed the stairs into the roof space. Obviously used as a nursery, the nanny's quarter to the rear. Falkirk thought about Hudson, with a few modifications the area would make a rather nice self contained annex. The large windows offered nice views, able to see a park in the distance.  
  
Returning to the foyer Falkirk continued into the small corridor off the stairs with a cloakroom and guest bathroom as well as a flight of stairs going down. The basement contained a sizeable kitchen and had access to street level by way of a courtyard and set of external stairs going past the window.  
  
The Butler's pantry Q Branch had recommended be converted into a secure room. The Kitchen needed modernised along with the whole house. If he had time Falkirk would have loved it. Retuning to Hudson and the others Falkirk instructed the Alphas to move on to the next house.  
  
Arriving at the next, another Edwardian town house. It looked wonderful the renovations having already been done. The external plaster work was pristine. Falkirk helped Mycroft who insisted on coming.  
  
The Estate agent unlocked the door keeping a running commentary on the wonderful house saying, “There’s a swimming pool on the lowest floor.”  
  
Entering the foyer of pale marble and gilt light fixtures Derrick cleared his throat drawing everyone's attention. “M, I apologise I didn't notice that, it definitely wasn't on the manifest,” he said indicating the security system's control panel.  
  
It took a moment for Falkirk to realise what Derrick was worked up about. Looking closer he saw a hologram sticker below the brand, identifying the subsidiary of a particular company's parts having been used. Pulling out his gun Falkirk swung it down in an arc smashing the touch screen panel. “You were to disclose all goods purchased in the renovation,” Falkirk said coldly as he picked the panel apart. Finding what he was looking for, the 'dD' logo engraved onto the circuit board unmasking the affiliation.  
  
“Buy Eaton Place. Make sure he doesn’t get the commission,” Falkirk instructed Hudson. Quietly he gave his instructions to Derrick. The dressing room was to be converted into a private bathroom in the master bedroom. The attic was to be converted into a self contained flat and to open up the second floor, Falkirk didn't want the back rooms hidden away. He returned to the car ignoring the protests of the Estate Agent.  
  
A few hours drive found Falkirk's car outside of London. Arriving early at the church he waited in the car until it was time. Lowering the central arm rest and opening the hatch Falkirk reached into the boot pulling out a zip lock bag. Picking out a black tie Falkirk handed it to Mycroft.  
  
“To whom are we paying our respects?” Mycroft asked as he flipped down the mirror so he could put on the new tie.  
  
“Lance Corporal William MacFarlane, our brother.”  
“We still need to make arrangements for Mummy and Daddy,” Mycroft said.  
  
Taking several moments to respond, “She was an Agent so I need to speak with Sergeant Donovan's mother. Robinson has a son and daughter. God we left Luke on some slab in New York.” All the people Falkirk had forgotten in the constant rush flooded to mind.  
  
“M,” Selene called from the front of the car, concerned. Even Mycroft looked taken aback by the demure distressed tone in Falkirk's voice. Shaking it off Falkirk flipped down his mirror and straightened his own black tie.  
  
Getting out the car Falkirk offered his arm to his recovering brother. “We should see Robinson's family together,” Mycroft said softly to his brother. Walking across the road Falkirk helped Mycroft up the several steps into the sandstone church.  
  
Picking up an order of service they seated themselves behind the congregation. Several more people entered, some joined friends and family further forward while others who didn't fully know the deceased or family took up position on the same pew as Falkirk or behind.  
  
A pew across and further forward, full of well turned out older men all with the same regimental tie, Falkirk deduced as friends of Billy's step father. Nearer the front still, a younger set of people wearing a different regimental tie from Billy's. An old Beta male behind Falkirk whispered to his neighbour, “Little bastard used to steal cigarettes, would have sworn he would be staying at Her Majesty's Pleasure.”  
  
Feeling Mycroft tense Falkirk cast a subtle glance around the church. One of the older soldiers, rather stocky, with bald head and a bushy moustache was giving Mycroft and himself furtive glances. Slowly a whispered conversation sparked up between the men and more glances came Falkirk's way.  
  
“Not a threat. He just knows how to read a person. Probably suspect we are officials of some description,” Mycroft uttered under his breath.  
  
The Family entered headed by Billy's Papa, step father and brother. When the immediate family took up position on the front row the Minister called the service to order.  
  
  
Upbeat hymns intermingled with stories of a youth that reminded Falkirk of elements from Sherlock even a few of himself and Mycroft. There was no formal single eulogy, different speakers came forward. One of Billy's school friends reminisced of 'a fat little twat', and chuckles went up. An army friend gave stories from training and another from the Afghan deployment. As the service came to an end the men from Billy's regiment stepped forward, raising the coffin on their shoulders. With the Minister leading the procession the congregation followed the coffin into the grave yard.  
  
“Spook?” A gruff voice said. Closer Falkirk was able to identify the man as a Beta. Taller than Falkirk expected his moustache was verging on the absurd, really looking like a broom head attached to his top lip. Mycroft gave his typical tight placating smile.  
  
“I wasn'a talking to you, ya long streak o' piss,” the Beta said to Mycroft.  
  
Looking to Falkirk, “I saw that lad fight, there was no way some chav could best him,” The beta continued.  
  
Rounding on Falkirk the Beta brought them to a halt. “I know what Billy was like, before. If he had something to do with those bombings. His Papa has been through enough,” he beseeched.  
  
Falkirk could understand the man's concern. Billy's death had been wrapped in mystery. The family knew there was a suspect but not who. They had also been told there was a reason behind the killing but not what. They were then told for reasons that couldn't be explained, Billy's death was to be considered a tragic result of a pub fight and not the premeditated murder it was.  
  
“Billy had nothing to do with the bombings but the bombings had something to do with Billy,” Falkirk informed. Falkirk's response was met with confusion. “That is as much as I can say, perhaps after we have apprehended the perpetrator...”  
  
The minister raising his voice cut through the conversation. After Billy had been buried mourners approached the family giving their condolences. Billy's step father broke away coming over to Falkirk and Mycroft and greeting his old friend who was still beside them. Falkirk moved off. Coming up to the Papa and half brother of Billy, who wore the same regimental tie as his father Falkirk stiffly giving his condolences.  
  
“Is dad alright?” Billy's brother asked.  
  
Looking back to Mycroft Falkirk froze. Desperately Falkirk looked about for Selene unable to see her. Panic welled up in him, Sebastian Moran was too short to stand shoulder to shoulder with Mycroft. He was grinning like a loon, Mycroft and the two ex Soldiers were all standing stiffly. The group trying to maintain the appearance of a pleasant conversation.  
  
“Something wrong?” Billy's brother then asked Falkirk.  
  
“Call the police, tell them Sebastian Moran is here,” Falkirk said. Reaching into his jacket Falkirk wrapped his fingers around the handle of his gun. Pulling back the hammer and flicking off the safety Falkirk started crossing the grave yard. Approaching at an angle out of sight from the revenge obsessed Alpha. The man in simple blue jeans and black hoodie. The thought the man might come never having crossed anyone's mind. Seeing Selene on the far side, in Moran's line of sight, the way she stood stiffly indicting she knew Moran had marked her. Falkirk suspecting there was a subtle gun involved to keep Mycroft and Selene compliant.  
  
Taking aim, the Beta from earlier who Moran was speaking to flicked his eyes to Falkirk or more precisely the gun aimed at Moran. Expecting an attack Moran spun, hiding behind and throwing Mycroft into Falkirk. Tracking Moran as he moved he brought his gun up to aim at Selene. Firing, Falkirk's bullet barely missed the head of his falling brother. Unable to compensate for the impact it sent Mycroft and Falkirk down onto the gravel path, Mycroft landing on top of the leaner and shorter man. The Omega hit the ground, pain blossomed as Mycroft crushed him and felt something snap followed by a piercing pain in the side of the abdomen.  
  
Selene appeared, face red and yanking Mycroft off her boss. “Moran?” Falkirk wheezed pain shooting through him every time he took a breath and vision throbbing in time to his heart.  
  
“Secure,” Selene answered as a steady beating sounded through the air but Falkirk wasn't sure if that was just his heart beat again.  
  
Pulling out her phone Selene looked at the ringing device and answered. Daniel shouted loud enough for Falkirk to hear, “What the bloody hell is going on?”  
  
“Moran is dead. M and Holmes need immediate medical attention,” Selene demanded.  
  
Beyond the pain Falkirk wondered why Selene didn't give a location and why were his and Mycroft's phone ringing as well. 'Is that a police helicopter buzzing about?' Falkirk wondered. When Falkirk tried to tell Selene he was entering a state of shock the pain from his abdomen stopped him from taking all but the shallowest of breaths.  
  
A man appeared in green paramedic fatigues. Falkirk tried to speak but Selene informed the paramedic of Falkirk's fledgling pregnancy. The world passed in a haze for Falkirk, he thought he flew for part of it but couldn't quite focus enough.


	22. James Bond: Perfect Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I'm evil I'm keeping you waiting for resolution on Falkirk. So here is James' story of what he has been up to since he left his Omega.
> 
> Thanks for reading, comments and kudos. 
> 
> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.

Arriving in New York and with great reluctance James pulled away from his mate. Heading for the Audi he took the keys from the local Q, got in and gunned the engine setting off for his mission. Giving a quick glance at the fading view of the plane in the rear-view mirror James saw the group, Falkirk and Wade talking and disappearing in the darkness.  
  
Finding the building he was looking for James parked and reached into the boot pulling out the large rucksack and small case. Heading into the skyscraper he got to the lifts before anyone noticed he was out of place.  
  
He broke into a dark penthouse and at the window James saw dataDyne HQ below and several hundred yards away. Opening the small case he attached four sucker charges to the corners of the window. Taking the rest of the equipment from the case James then discarded it.  
  
The rucksack James secured the heavy straps around his body and thighs. Pulling out the detonator James flipped up the cover and pressed the button. With a pop the plate window shattered into tiny balls of safety glass. The wind filled the room and James ran, jumping out pulling the ripcord and the parasail opened.  
  
Steering towards the tower of glass with the 'dD' logo on the front James had two choices. There was a radio mast that would be a tricky landing or the helipad but Evans had reported it was monitored by CCTV.  
  
Deciding to keep his assault as quiet as possible James aimed for the mast. The impact on the framework was jarring as the canopy wrapping around it. Growling James tried to detach the harness. Giving up he pulled out a knife and cut the straps.  
  
Climbing down the mast James looked for the cameras. Jumping he caught the metal gangway that led to the Helipad. Shimmying along James hung over the roof access door making sure he was beyond the camera as he dropped down.  
  
The door was unlocked. Evans had said there were no cameras in the confined space to ensure there would be no visual record of certain visitors. The stairway inside was nicely decorated. Reaching over James shot the guard at the bottom, the silenced gun making a dull thumping sound.  
  
Cracking the door open James looked onto a smart corridor suitable for impressing VIPs arriving by helicopter. To the right was the official path with two dataDyne guards patrolling. Across from him was a service door. Evans had reported a concealed door to the left that would lead right to De Vries Office.  
  
Making sure there were no cameras. James pushed the door open and shot the two guards. Heading to what looked like a dead end James saw a concealed door and pushed it open. It wasn't locked and it was just the rams that held it closed. Evans had reported there were no cameras in this section, James checked anyway.  
  
Going down the spiral staircase James was in a small anti-room with a door at the far end. Opening it James heard the high class American accent, easily identified as De Vries. She was speaking to someone, a strong voice, the flat tone of a Nordic accent with an American tinge to it. James suspected it was Mr Blond.  
  
“We are analysing Prometheus,” De Vries was saying. The Omega who masqueraded as an Alpha was attempting to appease what was thought to be her Alpha.  
  
Mr Blond was pleased but not for De Vries' efforts. “We need Pelagic II. Gerstmann thinks, only that bitch is smart enough to see the plan. Moran will keep him busy, hopefully kill him while we recover Red October.”  
  
“Yes, my Alpha,” De Vries replied disappointed. Even in doing right it wasn't enough to gain the approval of her Alpha. There was a frustrated sigh from the woman and James took it to mean the conversation was over.  
  
De Vries' office was in a T shape. The widest part was to the outside of the building with floor to ceiling windows. The main entrance was at the bottom of the longest corridor designed to make guests walk up to the desk in front of the window. Everything was made to intimidate like you were in a throne room approaching a queen.  
  
From the side corridor James approached her desk. The Omega was alone and staring blankly at the engrained surface of her highly polished walnut desk.  
  
James needed her master key. There were two known, one of which was in the necklace around the Omega's throat. There was no way the Omega shouldn't have noticed him. He was not softening his footfalls or masking his scent. When she spoke, it confirmed James' suspicion that he was not unexpected. “Make it Quick.”  
  
\--  
  
The lift descended to the ground level, the lights were low and only a few guards were on duty. Daniel and Evens' assessment and history came back to mind. There were a few guards on James' path to the basement elevator but all dealt with easily.  
  
As the basement elevator descended James dislodged the access hatch in its ceiling. Climbing up he detached two grenades, suspecting a party was waiting for him. James was not disappointed. When the doors pinged and opened, gunfire rained into the enclosed space. Leaning through the hatch into the cabin James threw the grenades out of the open doors. The first a frag followed by a flash bang.  
  
With shouting, screams and multiple bangs James dropped down. The disorientated and injured men fell as James shot those who had survived.  
  
Following the corridor to a security door James waved De Vries blood stained necklace at the panel and the door opened. He was surprised that there were so few guards, the checkpoint and a small reception desk empty. Following a sign for the labs James crossed a large storage area and came to another security door which opened under the master key.  
  
The long corridor beyond the security door was not patrolled either. Opening the first door James heard the rapid fire of an automatic assault rifle. He was overlooking a range, a man in the dataDyne security uniform stood beside a man in a lab coat.  
  
With two shots James gained a new toy. The assault rifle was new, he’d never seen one like it. It had angled plates encasing the internal mechanisms. It reminded James of a gun version of a stealth fighter. With the new toy which he planned on bringing back to Q as a souvenir strapped to his back James moved on clearing and securing lab after lab.  
  
“Always the bloody last one,” James complained entering the final lab in the corridor. He heard the man and woman. They sounded like Alec and himself trying to discuss computers with Falkirk. They knew the meaning of the words they were using but the context didn't seem to fit. James felt a little relieved that experts were having trouble following his mate's invention and it wasn't just him.  
  
Shooting the two engineers James saw the thing that matched the photograph he had been shown. Pulling out a metal box about 6”x4”x2” in size he connected it to the blade server. Like Silva's laptop there was a self defence aspect to the Prometheus system. As dataDyne tried to hack it, Prometheus hacked dataDyne in turn.  
  
James hated this. He was reduced to watching a book sized black box connected to a bigger black box waiting until a yellow light turned green.  
  
The yellow light started blinking and James growled. No one told him what a yellow blinking light meant. Then it turned green, a buzzing crackle sounded from the flat computer and a trail of smoke started to seep from the fan at the back.  
  
Disconnecting the drive James headed out.  
  
\--  
  
Q branch station N. James handed over the gun and the drive with the clone of the server. He was now waiting for intel to be taken from the drive.  
  
Flicking on the TV James listened to the Right Wing Propaganda nut jobs playing right into Urquhart's hands. “We have to kill them, kill them now, go over there and KILL them now.” Showing a mentality that couldn't grasp the situation the left and the moderate right were trying to calm the situation and being ridiculed for their cowardice.  
  
A commotion from the front of the building steadily grew. Going to see what was happening James went upstairs to the public offices of Universal Exports New York.  
  
“Jimbo,” called an exhausted voice. James looked to Jack, the older Alpha seemed to be sagging as James had never seen him do before. Not even when they were in some hell hole after pissing off the local drug cartel had he looked this bad.  
  
Greeting the old Alpha James led him through the back. He had been informed and complicit from when Trent was a contact for Siger Holmes. Going on to help with the placement of a mole in dataDyne when Trent was growing more powerful and questions of his loyalty were being raised.  
  
James offered a whisky from the stash of the local Director. Accepting the drink Jack sat. “I knew he was forceful but I've never seen the kiddo so hostile,” Jack said and James had to laugh.  
  
“He has earned his position as M and he’s an Omega. Fear ‘Mother’,” James said when he calmed down, using the Double Os nick name for him.  
  
James downed his drink and looked to his old friend. “It's not just Falkirk. Urquhart is the danger. The only person that can stand against him is Falkirk and he just watched someone try and wipe his family from existence.”  
  
Jack had no love for Trent Easton and since he had taken over the NSA had been nothing but an embarrassment. “The NSA are denying the charges and Easton has gone to ground.”  
  
Taking a chance that there was still friendship and it may go to help heal some wounds, “If Easton wanted Pelagic II what would he have to do?”  
  
Wade thought about James' question saying he needed a smoke he went outside. On the cameras, James watched as Wade spoke on his phone. James warned the room in general, “We might need to burn the station.”  
  
The advice didn't seem to be unexpected. Now that he looked there were only three people, The director, the Q and a bulky security guard. The other half dozen staff absent during this delicate time.  
  
When Wade returned he looked far worse. His thick fingerers spinning his phone. Even his almost permanently sun burned face was more pale than usual. The Texas accent had none of the usual exuberance. “Easton would need to take the ship. It's currently in the north Atlantic, radio contact doesn’t indicate a problem but the USS Thunderchild is being deployed to investigate.  
    Because the Pelagic II was meant to recover nuclear warheads, there is an Executive override for the systems.  
    That one is tricky, Easton couldn't just kill the president or the Vice President would immediately take over everything. His best bet would be to incapacitate or control the President.  
    In the confusion of not knowing the state of the President, power and authorization shift by priority. Something like launch codes switch immediately there is a problem. Everything else... it's set up to keep the President the President as long as possible.  
    Things happen, Presidents are men and sometimes they need to slip out on their own for a couple of hours. Can't have the President ride his bike into a ditch and by the time he picks himself up, he isn't the president anymore.  
    But with enough confusion it would give Easton time to do whatever he has planned.”  
  
They talked for some time the local Q pulling the information off the drive. After a long moment of silence, Wade looked to James across from him, “I just don't know what this is about?”  
  
“Red October,” James said and Wade looked at him in concerned surprise.  
  
“Fuck,” Wade shouted, surging to his feet. Like a lion in a tiny cage Wade paced the room. “Us and Britain possibly Europe and now Russia. They're either trying to destroy us or start world war three,” Wade said.  
  
James still didn't know the relevance of Red October as Wade stopped and looked at him. “The President is at Clanton Air Force base, Alaska. If Trent wants him that’s where he’ll go. I need to speak to Ryan,” Wade said and marched out.  
  
\--  
  
The snow fall was so heavy James couldn't see the hand at the end of his arm. He dressed in white, grey and black camouflage, a face mask to protect him from the high mountain air and a fur lined hood pulled tight round his head.  
  
“God. Alec's the one who likes freezing his balls off,” James complained. For whatever reason Wade was being very helpful.  A CIA plane had delivered him into the middle of the hornets nest of Clanton Air Force Base. James had bailed out as the plane circled before landing.  
  
Following the mountain path, a rock face one side, a shear drop to the other. James came across the guards in heavy padded and light grey camouflage uniform. Avoiding these guards as they were regular Air Force personnel James passed them by stealth. Not overly difficult given the viability, or more precisely the lack there of.  
  
Coming to the cave that had been cut out James was careful as it offered a bit more shelter and didn't want to stumble across some poor sod avoiding the wind and snow. The tunnel was fairly short, with lighting and thankfully empty. Coming out of the tunnel the Complex that served as an airport was to the right. The rest of the base was built into the mountain across the valley, the two connected by a cable car.  
  
Seeing a cable car making the journey over James ran. The rough path gave way to proper ground of the airport's forecourt, enclosed by railings so no one got blown off the area. The Airport terminal was to James' right and the cable car station at the far end.    
  
Veering to the corner James vaulted off the safety barrier and onto the cable car. Grabbing the strut that connected the car to the cable and kept it level James slid down onto the roof. Pulling himself into a huddle James waited for the return journey.  
  
With a shudder the car stopped. The airport was looming over them. James could just make out some windows at the side of the building. Someone looked out but wouldn't see a grey blob against white snow, masked by the snow floating in the air.  
  
“At least a bitch knows how to obey.”  
  
James thought he imagined the snide voice for a moment. Scrambling to the edge of the cable car James looked over as a group entered the side door of the airport. James caught sight of the last burgundy jacket as the door closed behind it. Dropping down he heard a gurgle.  
  
One of the guards in snow camouflage was flopping about as the snow about him turned a dirty red. Even in the two steps it took James to get to him he had stilled. Reaching under the hood James lifted the goggles. The eyes were open and in death they were frozen in fear.  
  
James followed after Easton, through the side door. The corridor held two more dead guards. Following the corridor, it opened into a large lobby, a set of main doors and a view over the companion base across the valley, if you could see that far. No one had noticed James running through.  
  
The doors that led towards the concourses had dead guards either side. Heading towards it James saw a pretty receptionist lying on the floor behind the desk, with a neat bullet hole on the middle of her forehead. Going through James ran down escalators and along more passageways, the dead guards acting like a trail of bread crumbs.  
  
Passing a row of windows James recognised the blue and grey plane connected to the gantry. Picking up the pace he rounded the corner, eyes going wide. The group of guards in burgundy jackets of Trent Easton looked to him and raised their guns. James got a shot off before weapon fire forced him back.  
  
James shot out the windows and leapt out dropping to the tarmac, somehow devoid of the falling snow. He ran to the truck that was delivering goods to the plane. Bullets bounced off the ground but lack of visibility saved James.  
  
Jumping onto the squared cab of the truck James then leapt for the raised platform that connected to the plane. The platform juddered and started to lower. The cargo door was closing. Diving through the closing door James breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
The sound of guns being cocked alerted James to his less then stealthy entrance. Looking up, at least they were secret service not Easton's, “I come in peace,” James said and held his hands up.  
  
The three men in standard black suits and ear pieces were all glaring at James. The African American with a shock of wiry hair sticking up, to James' left stood back, lowering his gun and pressed his finger to his ear.  The young one with cute hair and the little bald one took direct aim and became more alert.  
  
A shudder went through the plane as it started moving. “Unknown Hostiles have taken the base,” the Black secret service agent informed.  
  
“Easton is my target,” James stated still sitting on the floor with his hands up. He noticed that they were all Beta which was strange as Secret Service was usually manned by Alphas. The Black one was the tallest, oldest and clearly the one in charge. The short bald one looked like a dopey thug. The youngest with neat black hair almost looked too young to be on the presidential detail.  
  
When the Black agent took up aim the short bald one came up to James. He guided James to stand and patted him down, disarming him. He stripped James of the bulky outer coat and trousers leaving him in his body hugging thermals. “Move,” the short one barked.  
  
With his hands on his head James was marched past storage, a galley where cooks were preparing food and up a set of stairs into the main cabin. There was a buzz in the air and everyone was on edge. All eyes turned to James in fear and suspicion.  
  
This part of the retrofitted 747 looked like a good quality business class cabin. People with cameras took photos or video, others made notes, clearly journalists. Seeing a hand move as a person stood James dropped down and darted to the side. All hell broke loose. Easton's goons who had removed their easily identifying jackets emerged from the other passengers and staff to target the Secret Service personnel.  
  
The Secret Service couldn't identify friend, foe or non combatant. Someone was shouting for everyone to stay down. Panic gripped the people and they stampeded in all directions, some getting caught in the cross fire.    
  
James kept low as the two groups exchanged gunfire. Coming round a seat he came eye to eye with an Easton goon under cover. Lunging James tackled him breaking the man's neck and taking his gun. Moving, armed and behind most of the intruders James ducked out and shot the two remaining Easton goons.  
  
As he stood it was just James and the three secret Service Betas remaining. The four goons and two further Secret service agents were down. There was crying and screaming as people were trapped in the cabin.  
  
The black agent looked James up and down. “Joe. He's Marvin 'Marv'. And that one is William, 'Coop',” The black Agent introduced himself then indicated the short bald man then the young dark haired one.  
  
“Where's the back up?” Marv observed.  
  
As one, the four headed forward. James and Joe went up the left side with Marv and Coop going up the right. James suspected it was so Joe could put a bullet in his back if he though James was playing both sides.  
  
The next cabin had bodies and a cowering survivor. The following one had an active gun fight in progress. The Easton goons were defending the doors at the far end while the Secret Service were being held back. Joe spoke with one of the Agents.  
  
“It doesn't matter, those doors don't open from this side,” Joe said to James.  
  
“The dumb waiter,” Marv said coming up to them.  
  
“Show me,” James snapped.  
  
They headed back along the plane and down to the cargo section. Entering the galley they passed through when James was first captured the four men stood looking at the thing not much bigger than the door on a microwave. The chef said, “The door's locked.”  
  
Marv and James moved together, smashing the glass front and prying the door open. James then looked into the shaft, a tap and Marv held out a hammer to him. Shimming inside James smashed the dumb waiter then climbed up a level. It was a tight squeeze, the shaft not much bigger than the width of his shoulders. Forcing the door open James climbed out then reached in to first pull the smaller Beta then the older one.  
  
They were in a foyer type area of the aircraft with a stair case heading up and four doors about them.  
  
“They fried it,” Marv said at the door to the back of the room. The control panel sealing the door had been shot. With easy access reinforcements separated it was down to them.    
  
Searching the room ahead they found Easton. He and his group were standing in front of a hatch. The small President was strapped into a tandem parachute along with a big Alpha. James saw what they were going to do and ran, better to be already moving and in the direction he wanted to go. One of the goons blew the door, the cabin de-pressurization sucked everyone out.  
  
James saw his target, a goon not that far below him. His face burned with the cold and rushing air, the thin thermals not enough to protect his body either. Moving into a dive pose he cut through the air impacting the goon ripping the parachute off him and securing it around himself. The landing was fast and hard. Looking up James was just about able to make out the other parachutes landing, the plane starting to barrel roll and dive in the distance.  
  
Seeing the parachute with the two men James started running. The body heat and the biting chill combining to make James' clothing damp and very cold. The terrain was rocky and snow covered the ground, making every footfall uncertain to what actually lay beneath. A step and James' leg sank to mid thigh and causing him to fall forward, the snow having filled a dip. In the distance a high pitched whine ended in a fireball that lit the snowy sky orange.  
  
Arriving at the site where Easton and the goons had congregated, a dark grey mountain loomed above them with plains of snow covered forest stretching far in the other direction. The area full of rocks, James hid behind one to check his gun, four bullets for five people. Easton a hidden Omega James didn't want to kill in close quarters was the first James shot, the others falling in quick succession.  
  
As he hoped, only James, the President and the Alpha remained. The Alpha had the Omega in front of him, the smaller man stretched as he was being held in the big man's grip. A gun pointed at the Omega's head.  
  
Picking up a good sized stone, James aimed for another jagged rock sticking up from the snow and threw. The Alpha targeted the noise in the poor visibility and fired. James darted to a rock a little closer to the Alpha and President. James smiled seeing the Alpha's gun, the slide was locked back indicating it was empty. He rushed forward as the Alpha threw the President aside.  
  
James went low, the bigger Alpha having to compensate for his greater height leant down. Barrelling into the Alpha around the hips James felt hard jabs to his back as he forced the bigger Alpha down. Scrapping and rolling James eventually got the upper hand. Worming a hand round the Alpha's neck he squeezed with all of his strength. The Alpha stilled and James confirmed he was dead.  
  
The small Omega was huddling down, shivering with cold or fear James couldn't tell the cold burned his nose when he tried to take a scenting. Reaching down, the Omega cringed, James changed from his instinctual target of the neck to the shoulder. “Come on,” James encouraged and helped the man to his feet. Tucking the smaller Omega under his arm James headed for Easton. Leaving the Omega alone a moment, James ripped the jacket and padded trousers from the dead hidden Omega and bundled the President into them. James then did the same for himself using a goon of a similar size. He then took the other remaining coats, phones and anything else that looked useful or important.  
  
Again James was about to scruff the Omega to pull him along towards the relative shelter of the rocks before stopping himself and grabbed the shoulder of the Omega's Jacket.  
  
It was hard going with the Politician in his dress shoes not made for trekking in freezing weather. James wrapped an arm around the smaller man and held the Omega close, supporting him as they moved across the treacherous ground.  Eventually they came to the rocky area. Seeing a shallow cave James directed the omega towards it, handing him the extra jackets.  
  
Pulling out his phone James called Wade. “Jimbo?” came the desperate voice.  
  
In stuttering shiver “Have.. President... immediate... evac,” James wheezed, the cold air burning his lungs. James gave the coordinates and warned about the rocks.  
  
“En route,” Wade said with relief.  
  
Joining the small Omega James used his mass to block the entrance as much as possible. Hugging the Omega close in the slight shelter, James could scent the distress coming from the him. He then felt the Omega's head move, the man's nose brushing his neck.  
  
“Mr McLair?” the president said.  
  
James laughed, his mate was meant to use his name not him being known by his Omega's. It was good the man at least recognised him.“I prefer Bond, or James.”  
  
“What now?”  
  
James looked down to the small Omega his arms were wrapped around and was nestling up to him. “Not what usually happens at this point in a mission,” James teased to the Omega's confusion.  
  
“Congratulation, Mr Bond. I can see you'll make a wonderful Father,” Bartlett said and James snapped his attention to the little Omega.  
  
\--  
  
Giving his initial report at Station N they had decrypted the server, phones and tablet James had supplied.  
  
The local Director, a Beta male with grey hair and round tortoiseshell glasses looked to James, “Mr Blond's location had been identified. Double O Eight is en route to intercept him,” the Director informed.  
  
James came out of Station N to find Wade and Ryan waiting for him. “We arranged a plane,” Wade said then pulled open the door of the limousine and the three men entered the back of the black car.  
  
En route to the airport Ryan asked, “I wonder why they wanted Red October?”  
  
James remained tight lipped, he had never heard of Red October and didn't know if Falkirk had but James could see Ryan was using the question to probe him, trying to see if James saw the relevance of it.  
  
Wade took over the conversation, “Pelagic II was already under Easton's control. We sank it.”  
  
James raised an eyebrow, the sinking of the ship a bit of overkill to stop the NSA getting their hands on this Red October.  
  
“Good Luck. Give the Kiddo my best,” Wade said as he saw James on to the plane.  
  
-Ultra03-  
  
The man with shaved head and squared jaw pulled himself into the hotel room letting the suit jacket fall from his shoulders and dropping the fake glasses. Blood stained the underside of his left arm. Flicking on the TV there was news coverage about a looming war between America and Britain.  
  
Pulling open the mini bar he grabbed whatever was inside popping the lid of two of the miniatures and downing both in one go. Ripping off the shirt he looked at the wound he had received from a knife pouring another miniature overt it and savouring the burn as the wound was sterilised.  
  
“Breaking news. We are hearing reports Air Force One has been hijacked by persons unknown and has possibly crashed. I repeat...”  
  
He snapped his eyes to the TV at the announcement knowing his friends were on that plane, a last minute addition to the president's detail as everything went to pot. Then his phone started ringing. Answering, “Frank Moses.”  
  
“You have a target,” the booming voice of Admiral Greer said.  
  
\--  
  
With a hasty dressing to the wound under his arm and a fresh suit Frank Moses stepped out into the scorching sun of Dubai. In a custom two piece suit and round tortoiseshell glasses he looked every bit the man who would frequent the financial and business district where the tower of shimmering glass was located.  
  
Arriving at his destination, a new building of glass stretching high Frank entered the lobby to find his destination. “Always the top floor,” He complained and headed to the glass lifts.  
  
The lift gave an awe inspiring view of the modern city around the building. Stepping out to a floor a fun house, walls of glass and no privacy. He even saw someone take a corner to early and smack into a glass wall.  
  
He approached reception with the pretty brunette Beta woman tapping away on the computer. “Dr. Malcolm Crowe to see Mr Skedar,” Frank said.  
  
“Have a seat he will be a moment Dr Crowe,” the receptionist said indicating a row of fancy and uncomfortable looking chairs.  
  
Moving to one that gave him a view of his target's office Frank saw three people. His target the easiest to identify, Nordic, tall and blond. Two across from him, the one sitting, stooping and older dressed in a coat despite the heat of the country. A cigarette held in hand despite being in violation of the signs hanging up.  
  
The other man Frank recognised as a bodyguard. They all had a similar attentive and vacant look which was required. They were meant to ignore the business of their charge whilst protecting them. The one covering the little man was good, his eyes kept landing on Frank. Whenever his attention turned to Frank he was careful to be studiously looking at the ugly picture of a monochrome panda on the far wall.  
  
“Mr Skedar,” a English, educated and London accent called.  
  
Frank looked to the short beta woman with a close cut hair style. Her clothing was perfect, professional and high class. She carried a briefcase in one hand. If Frank wasn't required to know every active Double O he would have overlooked her.  
  
The receptionist was trying to confirm the English woman's appointment.     
  
Frank casually stood. His orders were to make sure Skedar did not survive. If MI6 were here he could let them have the kill. He headed for the stairs as Joanna Dark was blocking access to the elevators. The dull thump of suppressed gunfire alerted him to the sudden change in the Double O's plan.  
  
The bodyguard rushed out of the office his smaller companion trailing him while Frank found himself between the bodyguard and his pre-planned escape route. The bodyguard rushed him, instinct took over and Frank grabbed the arm trying to push him out of the way.  
  
Throwing the bodyguard down, an arm across his neck Frank noticed the old Beta didn't even look back as she ran past. A knee caused Frank to roll off the bodyguard, a Russian curse thrown his way as the Bodyguard lunged.  
  
The bodyguard had changed his tactics, no longer directly protecting he was delaying a pursuer, drawing Frank into a drawn out fight.  
  
With a shoulder tackle Frank went through a glass wall and was back in the reception waiting area. Grabbing a chair he threw it at the bodyguard and lunged after the dodging Alpha. Grabbing the Bodyguard in headlock Frank felt the man jerking and convulsing. Dropping him abruptly as foam came from his mouth, Frank recognised cyanide when he saw it.  
  
Following the sound of gunfire Frank rounded the corner and spotted the big blond Alpha. A bullet from the Beta went through Skedar and into the glass doors of the elevator. With her gun empty Dark charged the much bigger Alpha slamming him into the glass doors, the final impact shattering them.  
  
Frank ran. The blond Alpha was falling out, a hand struck out grabbing the beta woman. Frank reached for her hand as he lunged to the open doors. Catching himself from sliding out as well. A brief touch of fingertips and the Double O was beyond his grasp.  
  
He watched as Skedar bounced off the roof of the elevator and right down to the lobby below. The Double O landing on the roof. Although a shorter fall it still would be fatal. There was no point hanging about.  
  
Running for the stairs, Frank went down. Hearing laboured breaths and shuffling feet he looked down. The small Beta was hobbling down as fast as he could. Frank quickened his pace. He had no idea who the person was but given the situation he was not going to give him the benefit of the doubt.  
  
Catching up with the Beta Frank slammed him to the wall. “Who are you?” He growled. All that answered him was a heavy wheezing. The gaunt face and lined skin like a flesh covered skeleton. The Beta gave a yellow toothed smiled.  
  
He couldn't breath, pain ripped through his chest, Frank slid down the wall leaving a trail of red. The sound of echoing and suppressed gunfire still ringing in the stairwell. The Beta he had been pursuing picking himself up. A Big Alpha coming up from the lower floors, speaking Russian and escorting the Beta away.  
  
Alone, seeing the packet of Camels the Beta had dropped Frank decided to have one before he died. With pain ripping through him Frank reached for the packet and tapped one of the filterless cigarettes out and placed it between his lips cursing the Beta for not being considerate enough to drop a lighter as well. With some manoeuvring Frank got his. The first drag had his chest screaming in pain as more blood was added to the pool around him. He wondered what had happened to the others, Joe, Marvin and the young pretty boy Copper.


	23. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> As always thanks to all the readers

Cracking open an eye Falkirk saw Mycroft in an adjacent bed, his eyes closed and looking just like he did on the first night Falkirk saw him in the hospital. He recognised the familiar scents of sickness, family and pack. Out of sight Sherlock was making groggy demands while John placated him. Falkirk couldn't build up the energy to look in a direction his head wasn't already pointed in.

“A'ake,” a young American accent called.

Shifting his eyes to the fidgeting blur between his and Mycroft's bed. Cody's big dark eyes looked up at him. Another form came into view, the bulk becoming more defined as he got closer and focused into Shane. Behind Shane, Falkirk recognised the prowl of the blurry form that became Selene.

“You shouldn't have done that,” Shane said.

“Daniel is pissed,” Selene warned.

“ME too, that was bloody stupid,” Alec shouted from across the room.

Falkirk cringed at the criticism from the Alphas of his pack more than that of Shane's. Mewling, “ 'm sorry,” Falkirk whined. Alec's head shot up at the distressed tone. Shoving Shane away Selene pulled the curtain around the bed before carefully laying down and pulling Falkirk against her.

“We're not angry just scared,” Selene whispered ignoring the hushed conversation going on beyond the curtain.

“Did I...” Falkirk whined into Selene's neck.

“You did good, you got Moran,” Selene praised, interrupting Falkirk.

Shaking his head Falkirk couldn't bring himself to ask. Tilting Falkirk's chin up Selene asked what was wrong. Eventually Falkirk got the word out, “Baby?”

“Oh, it's fine. As far as the doctors can tell it was just a rib. No further internal damage. Dr Frost has already been to see you,” Selene reassured. “Bed-rest and no aggravating movements. You have been prescribed anti inflammatory and pain control.”

Stroking Falkirk's neck, “Now with all due respect M, rest,” Selene ordered.

\--

When Falkirk woke again the chest his head was laying on had become more solid and the musk of Alpha had changed from female to male. “Hello Daniel,” Falkirk said.

“Laddie,” Daniel greeted.

Opening his eyes a side on view of a book greeted Falkirk. Daniel kept reading as he stroked Falkirk's neck just letting the Omega recover beside him. Looking to Mycroft who was still asleep Falkirk asked if he was alright.

“The jarring movements pulled some stitches so the Doctors needed to operate again,” Daniel said quietly. Before Falkirk could descend back in to self recriminating silence, “And this I'm particularly proud of,” Daniel said picking up a tablet.

Unlocking it Daniel pulled up an app. A grid appeared the left most column containing one set of serial numbers, the next column had MI6 short Ids (M, 007, BG01, BG02, T01, T02 etc.) then a set of coordinates, followed by a series of three cells with status indicators all currently green. Finally a number was displayed in the last cell.

Daniel propped up the tablet so Falkirk could see. Pointing to the second row, Falkirk recognised his ID in the second column. He watched as Daniel picked up his gun, Falkirk watched his 'M' ID be replaced with Daniel's 'Q'. Inserting the magazine the first of the indicators turned from green to red. Pulling back the slide, the second turned from green to red. Flicking off the safety the final indicator turned red. Pulling the trigger, the 0 ticked over to a 1 and the first and second indicators flashed yellow.

“You're tracking the state of the gun,” Falkirk observed.

“Not just yours,” Daniel responded before listing off who had been issued what gun.

Pointing to the last row, “James, he has actually kept hold of it,” Daniel's voice held a note of disbelief.

Reaching for the screen Falkirk tapped the serial with James' '007' beside it. A detailed view of the weapon's historical use appeared. Reaching to the screen Falkirk started scrolling through James' use of the weapon.

“I would not recommend using the black box on normal operations the signal could be traced,” Daniel warned

Nodding his agreement Falkirk backed out of James' profile and entered his guns. There were a few entries, the non firing event when he smashed the control panel. Moran was next with one bullet fired plus a few more entries including Daniel's demonstration. “This is how the police helicopter arrived so quickly. You were spying on me?” Falkirk accused, touched that the Alpha was watching over him.

Daniel brushed the top of the Omega's head with his chin. “Always Laddie”

Bursting through the doors Selene intercepted Darren before he could get to Falkirk. Out of breath he pointed to the doors wheezing, “Urquhart, here, now.”

“I'll deal with him,” Daniel said removing himself from around Falkirk.

“No, help me sit up,” Falkirk ordered.

The Prime Minister flanked by his attack dog, the Lurch like Corder and Mallory. Giving a pleasant smile he approached Falkirk. “Most impressive, M,” Urquhart teased coming to perch at the side of Falkirk's bed.

“The knives were out again. You were not at the security services meeting, no MI6 representation whatsoever. I was beseeched to replace you from all sides then like Hermes himself the messenger descended. The weak, absent, boi had personally shot and killed the greatest terrorist since Guy Fawkes,” The Prime Minister said in soft and melodramatic terms. A subtle nod from Mallory confirmed the PM may be embellishing but the incident did occur.

Then in a dangerous purr and a dark eager light in the old Alpha's eyes, “There wasn't an unturned belly in the room. Most impressive. Even in your absence you hobble those fools,” Urquhart informed with malicious glee.

Falkirk didn't want to admit what an Alpha's praise did for him as an Omega. “I do my duty,” Falkirk said adamantly.

Looking across Falkirk Urquhart gave a pointed look to Mycroft, the thorn in his side. “I take it you wish me to back off?” He asked.

Shaking his head. “No, but be aware just as I won't help my Brother I will not hinder him,” Falkirk stated.

After Urquhart had departed giving Falkirk his best wishes for his recovery. Mallory took Darren with him when he left about half an hour after the PM. With Mycroft still unconscious it fell to Falkirk, well Daniel technically. Falkirk told the Alpha his favourite restaurant that would also do take away for special clients. So Daniel was dispatched to return with bags full.

It was comforting, the day spent in bed, first with Selene holding him then Daniel. Then Urquhart with pride, praise and what passed for joy. Falkirk found himself relaxing and calming. Falkirk stabbed an asparagus stalk, nibbling the green, just on the rawer side of al dente just how he liked it. Looking to Daniel, feeding Alec at the bed in the corner. Selene sitting by Keading's bed, Cody in her lap nibbling on a chunky chip.

After dinner, Selene took Cody out. The boy came back in pyjamas. He climbed up onto Falkirk's bed. Falkirk gave him soft touches, stroking the black hair and neck. Tucking himself into his brothers side Cody fell asleep.

Maloney paid a visit to Alec initially but wheeled himself over to Falkirk after. Lestrade also hobbled into the ward going over to see John and Sherlock. Selene stayed at Keading's side throughout while Daniel floated between Falkirk and Alec. Answering his phone Daniel excused himself saying he had to return to MI6.

\--

A clearing voice sounded above Falkirk waking him up. The tall slender form of the Prime Minister towered over him. Looking about him Selene was genuinely relaxed and Alec looked pleased only Mycroft looked annoyed, glaring at the Prime Minister.

“I insisted on delivering the news, It's over,” Urquhart said

Placing the international New York Times down, headlines competed. 'NSA director in assassination plot', 'Air Force One: Alaska crash' A photo of a Canadian air force base, an Alpha Falkirk recognised as James escorting a smaller person from a helicopter, with a claim the smaller was the rescued President. Another article had pictures of CIA and FBI in full tactical gear storming NSA head quarters. The Department of Homeland Security had ruled the NSA a threat to National Security. There were even a few lines about why did the British know before everyone else.

“We have been asked for full discloser on intelligence,” Urquhart informed.

Pain shot through Falkirk as he snorted, “They will be told what they need to know,” he responded earning a malicious smile from the PM.

Informing Falkirk of a delegation being sent over the PM handed over the roster, “I don’t recognise their names, I want a full brief on them,” the PM ordered. Recognising a few names Falkirk informed the PM he would have the brief ready.

Giving a pleased smile the Prime Minister leant in close to Falkirk. “I have put your name forward for the New Years Honours,” he whispered tapping the side of his nose. “All hush, hush,” Urquhart said straightening up.

As the Prime Minister turned to leave Falkirk called him back, “Lance Corporal William MacFarlane, he was on leave but he was targeted by an enemy of this country,” Falkirk said.

“I will see what we can do,” Urquhart responded.

The moment Urquhart was out the door Falkirk demanded his phone. Daniel didn't pick up, trying Tanner next the Beta sounded harassed when he picked up. Tanner gave a quick report, 007 was uninjured.

“Do we have a location on Mr Blond?” Falkirk demanded.

“Q's working on it,” Tanner responded.

“I want a report in an hour,” Falkirk ordered.

\--

Daniel barged into the ward coming up to Falkirk. Placing an order in front of him, “I need Double O Eight.”

Reading the document, “Mr Blond is in Dubai?”

Nodding, “He is cutting ties to his associates and liquidating assets. Mr Blond will be there for the next few hours, Joanna Dark is the only one close enough.”

Signing the order, Daniel's phone was presented to Falkirk. “Double O Eight?” Falkirk stated. When Dark responded Falkirk ordered, “Get the Bastard,” she snapped an acknowledgement and hung up.

“Double O Seven will be back in two days,” Daniel informed. Falkirk nodded, giving Daniel the register of attendees he ordered a full profile to be compiled for the PM.

The day passed, Falkirk and Mycroft worked from their sick beds. Alec was a right pain in the arse all day, moaning until Maloney appeared with Evans to keep him company. Cody broke away from Falkirk for the first time climbing into Maloney's lap. Seeing the same charm James had developed in the child. Cody puffed out his chest and smiled directly at the other Omega, his chin held high, instinctively or emulating behaviour he had seen before.

Sherlock was becoming more lucid demanding details. With broken bones he was immobile as well but it was the lack of nicotine enhancing the consulting detective's mood. When John confirmed Mrs Hudson's death he stopped complaining, falling into an uncharacteristic stillness. Falkirk looked to Mycroft who tried to shake his head subtly but Sherlock picked up the move despite his seemingly closed eyes.

It was Mycroft who spoke up informing Sherlock and John of Molly Hooper's death as well. “WHO ELSE?” Sherlock demanded. Mycroft informed Sherlock of their parents while Falkirk added Sgt. Donovan to the list. Both John and Sherlock had seen Lestrade so there was no need to mention him.

When John blew up at Mycroft and Falkirk for there indifference, Falkirk casually informed he had spent hours writing and rewriting a letter for Donovan's Mother. There was also the letters for Charles Robinson's two children and fiancée. “I don't even know where to begin with our brothers and sister, who have died through this fiasco. One of them, his Papa saw me shoot Moran AT his son's funeral,” Falkirk shouted back.

John Watson was looking sheepish, in the face of the onslaught everyone was affected but some didn't have the luxury of wallowing in their grief and Falkirk was furious.

Selene pulled Falkirk's curtain blocking the doctor from view and laid a hand on Falkirk's shoulder. Wondering if this was what James felt after weeks of sporadic rest, inconsistent food mingled with high stress and life threatening danger. 'He makes it look so easy' Falkirk thought

Perching beside her boss Selene let Falkirk rest his head against her shoulder breathing in the scent of a familiar Alpha not quite as reassuring as his bond mate but enough. Falkirk absently continued to tap away as Selene moved to stroke his neck and back.

“Sorry.” John's voice floated over the curtain.

\--

In one of the small horseshoe shaped Operation support room Tanner sat at a phone. Daniel watched the screens on the back wall, containing nothing relevant.

“Confirmed, Mr Blond is dead as is Double O Eight,” Tanner said hanging up. “By all accounts she rugby tackled Blond into a lift shaft, they plummeted thirty storeys.”

“Repatriate her.”

Coming out of the support room into Q branch administration Daniel saw James perched on his secretary's desk. Nodding to his office upstairs James took the hint and preceded Daniel. Unlike the rest of the Double Os James was the only one who did not report to M directly.

James placed a hand written report on Daniel's desk. Reading over the document James asked about Falkirk. Pushing the report aside Daniel informed James of the events since the Operative's departure. The moment Daniel mentioned Falkirk's broken rib the other Alpha started fidgeting champing to get to his mate.

Going easy on him Daniel called it a night and accompanied James to the hospital. Falkirk's eyes snapped to James the moment he was in the room. Moving carefully to avoid waking the sleeping child at his side Falkirk made room for James. Gingerly James took up position caressing and stroking his Omega. Nuzzling and laying kisses on Falkirk's exposed neck, “Is it true?” James asked, circling a possessive arm around Falkirk as the other hand landed firmly on the centre of the Omega's stomach.

“Who told you?” Falkirk demanded glaring daggers at Daniel.

“This little Omega I met, he seemed to trust my scent,” James informed.

“Yeah, he was the one who told me as well,” Falkirk responded. Giving an appreciative and possessive growl James returned to nuzzling his mate's neck basking in the slightly altered scent.

A throat clearing pulled the pair back from each other. Looking to Daniel, Falkirk could see something was wrong. Asking for the report Falkirk had to add Joanna Dark to the top of the list of people he had to attend to. Unmarried and no known next of kin it fell to M to deal with the estate of a lost Double O. Report complete Daniel retreated to Alec who was being visited by Maloney and Evans.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wimped out, I couldn't do that to James and Q so they are going to be perents.


	24. Recovery ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks for reading, kudos and commenting.

When Falkirk woke up he was still in the circle of James' arms. A strange movement caught his attention, a colourful blur. Pulling on his glasses a single balloon bobbed tied to the end of his bed. A gaudy 'Congratulations' it declared with Darren, Daniel and Selene's signatures and a squiggle that Falkirk assumed to be Alec's marked the foil surface.  
  
“Why is it only MI6?” James asked whispering directly into Falkirk's ear.  
  
“They're the only ones I have told,” Falkirk said.  
  
Giving an 'Oh' Falkirk demanded his laptop. Reluctantly James disentangled himself from his mate to retrieve the laptop. Returning James wound an arm around Falkirk sitting beside him. Placing the laptop on his lap Falkirk booted it up, absently a hand returned to Cody stroking the mop of hair not dissimilar to his Papa's or Sherlock or himself. Wondering what his baby's would look like, James' blond, his dark brown or something between.  
  
“It's booted,” James prompted when he saw Falkirk lost in thought. Coming back to himself Falkirk logged in and pulled up the project folder for the new house. Falkirk started bringing up photos and CGI renditions of the completed work.  
  
“A right little home maker,” James teased taking over control of the clicking. Falkirk let his mate take control as he navigated from plans to the current images of the property.  
  
“Why is there a flat up stairs?” James asked, since Alec had unofficially moved out some time ago he didn't see the reason.  
  
“I hired a butler,” Falkirk responded.  
  
“The one who doesn’t like me?” James dead panned.  
  
“Yes that's the one.”  
  
A grumble beside them alerted James and Falkirk to the waking child. With practised ease Cody climbed down from the high bed toddling off to the toilet. “He should be about school age?” James asked getting a nod in response. After returning Cody held up his damp hands for inspection before going over to Selene. Climbing into her lap Cody leaned over to look at his still sleeping Papa.  
  
“The doctors are going to try to bring him round soon,” Falkirk informed as they watched the young Alpha's actions. James asked about David in the bed next to them. Falkirk shrugged, the move jarring his rib. His nephew had suffered considerable internal damage and it was still not looking well for him.  
  
During breakfast James let Falkirk eat in peace while he moved over to his oldest friend. Falkirk could say James' presence was comforting even if they didn't have privacy. There were questions and demands from his brothers when they woke to find the balloon bobbing at the bottom of Falkirk's bed.  
  
Sherlock seemed annoyed he hadn't deduced Falkirk's pregnancy himself while Mycroft was annoyed Falkirk had told his pack before him. A few hours later a fairly large teddy bear arrived from Hamleys, the delivery boy looked harassed and scared by the security he had to pass en route. Sherlock still sullen stared transfixed to the bear even ignoring John's attempts to engage him.  
  
Needing M's signature and authorisation Tanner arrived with a stack of paper work. Casting wary glances at the balloon Falkirk's chief of Staff hesitantly asked. Confirming he was pregnant Falkirk got flashes of his immediate future, repeating the same fact endlessly intermingled with posturing twits thinking they could get him to roll over.  
  
Ordering a meeting with Butler before his pregnancy became common knowledge Falkirk returned to reading.  
  
Unable to stop himself Tanner listened to the harassed conversation Mycroft was having on the phone. In a fit of frustration Mycroft hung up and glared at the metal and glass device. Knowing the personnel staff Mycroft could rely on had been killed Tanner approached the Alpha.  
  
“May I help you?” Mycroft asked with a tight smile when he noticed the Beta's proximity.  
  
“Nick Cutler, he was attaché to the Ambassador in Washington, returned after the bombing if you're needing staff,” Tanner informed.  
  
Falkirk only partly paying attention to his Chief of Staff and brother's conversation added, “You could also go for Mrs Jones she was a good Deputy when she wasn't trying to stab me in the back. She's could never see beyond my sex. She was always loyal to Alan Blunt, an Alpha.”  
  
“I could arrange an interview,” Tanner offered.  
  
“Thank you that would be helpful,” Mycroft answered stiffly.  
  
\--  
  
It was the next day when the Doctors came to remove the sedatives from Keading. Maloney and Evans offered to take Cody to the cafeteria while the doctors worked. In the end there was no immediate wake up and Keading was still asleep when Cody returned.  
  
Throughout the day Mycroft kept glancing at Sherlock even John and Alec where concerned by his subdued attitude. James disappeared for a few hours returning saying, “Hudson still doesn’t like me and the house looked like a building site.”  
  
Pleased James was truly interested in their home and even more pleased when his Alpha took up semi permanent residence beside him.  
   
Daniel and Guillam entered asking for James. When Falkirk demanded a report Daniel informed, “We have a lead. Gean, a black market weapons dealer operating out of a fishmongers.”  
  
“I know him,” James said, slipping out from beside his Omega.  
  
“That would be why we are here,” Daniel said exasperated. “You are going in. We want him alive and we thought a familiar face wouldn't cause an immediate defensive reaction.”  
  
Falkirk watched the three Alphas disappear through the swinging doors at the end of the ward.  
  
“Falkirk?” looking to Alec, who had called him. The man's head stuck up, his cast covered body still more or less pinned down.  
  
“I have used Gean in the past,” Alec admitted.  
  
There was a low growl from Sherlock, John suddenly looked sullen, self loathing emanating from him. Selene too was gearing up to add her admission to Alec's. Falkirk answered all of them, “Everyone knows about Gean. Everyone who has spent time in London who needed a gun from a reliable merchant knows about him. He was deemed a necessary evil because we knew who he was and watched who he sold to. Now it has bitten us all.”  
  
\--  
  
Butler, the tall, older dark haired exDouble O, with deep resonating voice was the next visitor Falkirk received. The Deputy Director's dark blue eyes landed on the floating balloon at the end of Falkirk's bed.  
  
“As you may have noticed there has been a new development,” Falkirk stated indicating the balloon.  
  
Giving brisk, “So I see,” the ex Double oh was difficult to read. Would Butler be a threat, ally or something between the two.  
  
Finally Falkirk mused, allowing Butler to hear but not directing the threat to him, “I do not look forward to hobbling every Alpha that tries to take advantage of the situation.”  
  
“I have looked into your MO, I would never dream of taking advantage,” Butler purred with a twinkle in his eyes.  
  
“Bloody Double Os all the same, your charm is severely misplaced Mr Butler,” Falkirk retorted. With a smile and a nod Butler took his dismissal  
  
\--  
  
When the doors of the ward opened again in the evening Tanner entered with another Beta male. Greeting Falkirk as he passed Tanner introduced the slightly sly blond man in a grey suit to Mycroft. Handing Mycroft the brief on Nick Cutler Tanner stepped back so they could talk. Approaching Falkirk, Tanner pulled out an envelope and handed it to his boss.  
  
Inspecting the lemon yellow envelope Falkirk pulled the flap open and pulled out the card with a cartoon stalk carrying a bundle in its beak. Giving a tight smile at the awful card Falkirk flipped it open. Hoping for a snarky punch line Falkirk was sorely disappointed to read the most awful gushing poem that has ever assaulted his perception. “Thank you,” Falkirk said, purely for the intention not the card itself.  
   
Gesturing Tanner closer Falkirk asked about Cutler. Tanner gave the rundown on a deep cover agent keeping an eye on the Washington Embassy for possible leaks, officially for the home security services but he had been recruited by MI6 at the same time as Tanner just out of Cambridge. “He wants out, lost a good friend in the bombing,” Tanner explained before adding, “Told his MI5 handler and Station W chief where to get off. I thought Mr Holmes' position would stop Nick getting bored, without the need to be a triple agent”  
  
“Good work,” Falkirk said trusting Tanner's desire to help his old friend and his judgement not to put Mycroft at risk.  
  
Giving non committal pleasantries Mycroft brought the interview to a close. Saying he would have to make his own checks Mycroft dismissed the Beta. Giving a nod to his boss Tanner joined his friend to escort him out.  
  
James returned in the evening taking up position at his mate's side. Wrapping an arm around Falkirk James reported on Gean's arrest. James, Daniel, 005 and Guillam got to question him for two hours before they eventually let his lawyer into MI6. What they got out of Gean wouldn't be admissible but 005 and Guillam had a whole list of names to round up now.  
  
Falkirk was quickly becoming intoxicated with the continuous touches James was giving him throughout the story. Eventually the omega gave up all pretence, slamming the screen down on his laptop he relaxed against his Alpha letting himself bliss out.  
  
When food came a fork was brought up to Falkirk's mouth and all he had to do was chew. The pampering was long overdue and Falkirk was adamant to take advantage of his Alpha as much as possible.  
  
A small uncertain whine pulled Falkirk from his happy place. Looking to Cody standing back from the pair Falkirk gave him a smile and nudged James over to make room. Flicking his eyes to James Cody still didn't approach. Giving up Cody dejectedly returned to Selene climbing into her lap.  
  
Shane informed having watched the behaviour, “He knows he can't compete with your mate and thinks you've rejected him.”  
  
Prompted by the soft, puppy dog eyes of his Omega James disentangled himself from Falkirk. Going over James gently lifted the protesting Alpha out of Selene's grasp. Cody continued to whine and mewl until James placed him at the side of Falkirk's bed. Realising where he was Cody immediately snuggled closer to his big brother, the Omega's pheromones relaxing him and sending him to sleep almost instantly.  
  
James barely had a perch but he made the best of it wrapping an arm around his mate again. The main lights were the first to go off and James pressed his lips to Falkirk's then his forehead, positioning the Omega's head comfortably on his shoulder. Shane retreated to the cot beside his son's bed while Selene did the same near Keading's. John switched his bedside light off next placing a book down that he had been reading. Sherlock lay awake or asleep, never having switched his light on when the main ones dimmed, still continuing to be unnaturally still. Alec had grumbled about the early nights but dozed off.  
  
Only James and Mycroft were still awake, Mycroft working away and James knowing if he dozed off he would end up on the floor.  
  
The only sound in the room was the gentle tap of Mycroft's keys until a soft whine permeated the room. Snapping his eyes open James honed in on the source of the sound, Mycroft confirming it, also drawn by the noise. Gently and quickly removing his arm James made his way to Keading's bed. The Omega's eyes weren't open but he was starting to rouse, the muscles in his face losing their relaxed state and his closed eyes squeezing tighter. Pressing the call button for a nurse James then placed his hand on Selene's shoulder, her bright blue eyes snapped open looking at James then focused on the slightly moving man on the bed.  
  
Soft brown eyes fluttered open remaining unfocused and closed again just before the Nurses appeared. Leaving Selene to deal with the other Omega James returned to Falkirk.  
  
\--  
  
When Falkirk opened his eyes he could see people moving about Keading's bed. “He woke up, still a bit out of it though,” James informed having felt his mate move.  
     
With Cody shuffling and waking James escorted the boy to the toilet for his morning routine before he could see the Nurses hovering around his Papa. When James returned the nurses were gone leaving only Selene by Keading's bed. Getting a nod from Selene James brought Cody over. Carefully Selene helped Cody up, restraining him when the child saw his Papa looking at him. Carefully Selene supported Cody as he nuzzled his papa with a delighted squeal. Keading for his part hugged his son as best as his weak arms could.  
  
Daniel stopped in on his way to work as he usually did, handing Falkirk the reports from James' mission and the arrest of Gean to sign off. Moving on Daniel went to visit Alec before saying his goodbyes and heading off to work.  
  
Darren appeared carrying a bundle of paperwork for Falkirk. Placing the bundle on Falkirk's bedside table he looked for the priority files. Handing Falkirk the first, “Double O One is back,” Darren informed. Grasping Darren's hand and pulling it close, Falkirk looked at the narrow gold band with an inset diamond.  
  
“Gareth asked,” Darren shrugged. It still wasn't common for Alphas to legitimise a union beyond the standard bond. As a by product of the increased gay rights movement Omega males had gained greater legal recognition for themselves and their offspring.  
  
“Congratulations,” Falkirk said giving his PA a smile.  
  
“He's gotten quite broody since the assassination attempt. I was never sure if he...” Darren trailed off.  
  
Having read Mallory's psyche profile and having spent time with both him and Darren Falkirk could guess. “I am sure Gareth would have done right by you but if he didn't care he would have allowed your bond to break. Perhaps he harboured the same unvoiced doubts over how you feel towards him.”  
  
“He never showed interest before,” Darren whispered quietly inspecting the ring on his finger.  
  
“As a bound Omega, abandoned by your family how would Gareth be sure his advances could be desired and not just tolerated,” Falkirk argued softly.  
  
Spinning the ring Darren cradled his hand possessively, close to his chest. Letting Darren mull over his thoughts Falkirk turned his attention back to the documents. Placing 001's report to the side Falkirk continued to the next. Darren slowly pulled himself out of his musings and started helping Falkirk pointing out the most relevant material.  
  
Signing what he could Falkirk handed back a bundle of documents for Darren to return to MI6 giving another, “Congratulations,” as his PA turned to leave.  
  
\--  
  
The round faced man with thinning hair, dressed in a good suit and a bowler hat under his arm arrived. Mr Hudson's soft Scottish tones gave a rundown on the hasty renovations to the house. When Falkirk began making arrangements to go and see the finished work James intervened, “You are not leaving that bed. I'll go see the house.”  
  
Acquiescing to his Alpha's desire Falkirk agreed not to move. Following Mr Hudson James went to inspect the renovations.  
  
C also paid a visit that day dressed in his typical grimy suit, he was wiping his fogged glasses with his tie when he entered. He spoke with both Falkirk and Mycroft but more for Mycroft's benefit as 005 kept Falkirk up to date. Nick Cutler had become a daily visitor along with Darren both acting as a physical links to the outside world for their bosses.  
  
Before Double O One appeared for her first debriefing Maloney wheeled himself onto the ward. Taking Cody with a promise from ice cream, the young Alpha climbed into the Omega's lap and the Double O wheeled them away.  
  
The woman with hard pale blue eyes and almost white blond hair arrived. Her mouth was in a hard straight line. She displayed little emotion and spoke in short sharp and efficient statements. Unlike Donne who didn't process emotion properly, from her heritage Papava just didn't display them.  
  
“Not an ideal location for your first debriefing but everyone is cleared, so speak frankly,” Falkirk ordered. Papava just raised a pale eyebrow, 'Even Mr Spock shows more emotion' Falkirk thought at the tiny movement. He also didn't miss her pale eyes taking in the colourful balloon at the end of his bed.  
  
Lying in a bed Falkirk couldn't do all the things he liked, like sitting back and crossing his legs or resting his hand on his knee using these and other little postures to present the debriefing as if it was a compendium with all the answers, only in his possession. “Your first kill was efficient and quick. Not a little overzealous when you dispatched, Ivan?”  
  
“No.” Papava had an English accent but the way she spoke made it sound like she should have the strong Russian of her heritage.  
  
“Is that the sum total of your answer, Ms Papava?”  
  
“Yes,” she purred, her aura daring to be challenged.  
  
“Ms Papava, your position is very precarious until you are awarded your licence to kill. You have committed a double murder and I remind you of the last Double O candidate, I will not hesitate to withhold Double O status if I have even an inkling of duplicity from you. Failure to gain your status could leave you open to prosecution, are you aware of that? Think carefully, were you overzealous in your conduct of Ivan?” Falkirk snapped, in short harsh statements.  
  
Giving a shrug and a snide, “No more overzealous than shooting a man in the face at almost point blank range, for example.”  
  
Alec hissed, at the reminder of what Falkirk had done to Moran. Papava ignored Alec and the hostile glares and even a few mutters from those around the room. Falkirk had to give his begrudging respect, shooting a man in the face and gutting a person from groin to throat wasn't all that different in the grand scheme of things. However he couldn't let that show. “Double O One you are on very thin ice. Let us begin at 08:33 hours when your plane landed in Palma, why did you forgo the Q Branch assigned car?”  
  
Falkirk used a hard tone and the HUD in his glasses. He tore her to pieces, every discrepancy from what she wrote to what she now said he used to question her conduct implying she was lying or covering something up. Every deviation from the plan he quizzed like it was an act of a double agent. Falkirk showed no mercy only stopping as she got more and more agitated and exhaustion started to taint her scent. It was a delicate balance keeping a Double Os ego in check. Olivia Mansfield had been a master and Falkirk tried his best to walk the delicate line between a restraining hand and a humiliating slap. The only Double O he couldn't do it for was James and now Daniel was his handler.  
  
Dismissing the Operative Falkirk could see Keading watching them through his lashes with his head bowed. Selene was beside him reassuring and comforting the Omega.  
  
“Does she actually buy the act?” Sherlock demanded from a few beds over from Keading's.  
  
“You did, Alec does, James does, everyone does,” Falkirk responded. Sherlock's comment was the first independent engagement for days from the Alpha.  
  
\--  
  
Falkirk tried to give the illusion of privacy as the doctor spoke to Shane. Placing the finishing touches on the dossier for the PM and adding the files he authorised to be shared with the Americans, Falkirk signed off the unified brief for the PM. He concentrated on his work and not the two men talking softly on the far side of David's bed.  
  
The Doctor was concerned about David's lung declaring it too damaged to heal properly and a threat of causing further infections. After being reassured David could survive with one lung his father weighed the benefits against the risks and gave his consent for the Pneumonectomy. When David was wheeled out Shane followed.  
  
Like everyone else Sherlock had been following the conversation, “He was lying.”    
  
“Concern, not deception,” Mycroft corrected absently.  
  
John supported Mycroft's deduction, “David is slowly deteriorating and the doctors needed to do something before he reaches the point they can't do anything.”  
  
\--  
  
James came in carrying a few full bags. Pulling out a large folder James started flicking through the samples, making notes. It was kind of nice for Falkirk to watch his Alpha pick out fabrics, wood stains, colours and tiles for various rooms. “What room is that for?” Falkirk asked seeing James looking at a nice pale wood sample with fine lines of a deep coloured grain.  
  
“It's for the room it suits the best,” James said with a twinkle in his eye. Falkirk knew the Alpha was deliberately teasing him allowing him to peak at the decorations but denying Falkirk the ability to build a full picture. Accepting James wanted the décor to be a surprise and trusting James' taste Falkirk dropped the questions.  
   
\--  
  
It was several hours later when David was wheeled back in. James picked up the remaining container and approached Shane. Handing over the plastic container Shane managed a single fork full before dropping it in the bin. Unable to sit any longer Shane floated from David to Falkirk. Not talking he just watched Falkirk work for a few minutes before returning to David. Repeating the process Shane moved to visit Cody, having watched over him for the most part when he first arrived. Having a brief conversation with the increasingly aware Keading, Shane then returned to David. The pattern continued through Sherlock, Mycroft and even Alec.  
  
As night came the lights in the ward were slowly switched off. Cody opting to stay with his Papa left room for James beside his mate. Climbing into bed beside Falkirk James wound his arm around his omega, giving a brief touch of lips and a hand gently playing with the flat stomach pushing fingers between the buttons to caress the skin beneath.  
  
“I... Mine,” James whispered and nuzzled the long line of offered neck, breathing in his Omega's scent. 


	25. Recovery iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.
> 
> Thanks to the reader, commentators and those who left Kudos.

James departed the ward first thing taking his samples and notes with him. Daniel came in coming up to Falkirk and pulled the curtain. “Questions are being asked about the American citizens you kidnapped. The embassy is demanding their location and access,” Daniel said in that soft voice that barely carries. “A father, sister and brother in law are becoming concerned and very vocal, and have gained political support.”  
  
Nodding Falkirk took a fortifying breathe and sat up. Pulling back the covers and with Daniel's assistance he made it across the room without too much pain. Falkirk had wanted to wait until Keading was stronger but he had to speak to him now.  
  
With Daniel's assistance Falkirk managed to perch on Keading's bed. The other omega was still pale with dark rings around his eyes. To Falkirk's relief the hair had been carefully washed and had returned to a shining gloss black, giving a slight wave to it. It was a small improvement but it was a start. The dark eyes flicked to Falkirk and dulled a bit in preparation, the journey of the injured Omega from his own sickbed to another a clear warning.  
  
“You know about Luke?” Falkirk asked getting a subdued nod. “Do you know where you are?” Getting another nod to his question Falkirk prompted for a verbal answer.  
  
“England,” Keading quietly answered.  
  
“What's this about?” Selene asked putting her hand on Keading's shoulder defensively.  
  
“Your father and sister have been enquiring about you and Cody,” Falkirk answered addressing Keading instead of Selene.  
  
“On their way,” Daniel corrected, under his breath.  
  
“No,” Keading whined at the mention of his family, looking desperately between Selene and Falkirk.  
  
As Falkirk was reassuring Keading Daniel reminded him about the consulate wanting immediate access. Glaring at the unhelpful Alpha, Daniel flicked his eyes to Selene, Alec and Falkirk's own bed, “Where is he?” Daniel stated. Falkirk frowned in confusion.  
  
Sherlock snapped at his brother, not picking up in the big Alpha's hint. “Pack, he is reminding you of the pack.”  
  
Keading looked about openly for the first time. Apart from Mycroft who he barely remembered it was only the MI6 personnel he’d met before. Taking the opportunity Falkirk indicated Daniel making the first introduction. Keading froze his hand partly extended to Daniel's, eyes fixed on the crescent indents of teeth marks on the heel of the Alpha's hand. Falkirk softly explained the origin of the old wound. Slowly Keading continued grasping the massive Alpha's hand and was amazed to get his back unscathed.  
  
“That one, Mycroft you may remember from Cody's birth,” Falkirk said. Giving the pair of Omegas a tight smile Mycroft then returned to his work.  
  
“The brother to Cody and myself, Shane. And the boy in the bed is David our Nephew, Shane’s son.” Falkirk said indicating the bed across from them, the boy within and the man dozing holding his son's hand.  
  
“That one is Sherlock and his mate John,” Falkirk said pointing to the beds beside Keading's.  
  
“That’s just tabloid gossip,” John complained. Alec called from his bed, “Me thinks someone doth protest too much.”  
  
“You're at the heart of the pack, you're safe,” Daniel said adamantly.  
  
A snort sounded followed by a sarcastic, “Safe.”  
  
Keading mewled at Sherlock's malicious statement. Continuing to reassure Keading he was safe Daniel interjected over Falkirk and Selene. “Every capable Alpha will defend you,” Daniel swore with Selene agreeing.  
  
Looking between the two Alphas, “Why?” Keading demanded.  
  
“It's what a pack does,” Selene whispered  
   
“Can we start with the consulate representative?” Falkirk asked Keading. Giving a weak nod Keading agreed.  
  
“I'll let Tanner know,” Daniel informed.  
  
Breaking away from Keading's bed Daniel moved to Sherlock grasping the detective's chin and forcing him to look directly into his eyes. Giving Sherlock a calculating assessment the consulting detective tried the break the uncomfortable intense and very close scrutiny.  
  
Finding what he was looking for Daniel nodded and let go. “You have never really lost before have you? Never felt useless or out of your depth? Always a way out? Always one step ahead even when you appear to be behind?” Daniel said quietly with empathy. A condescending glare met Daniel's words.  
  
 “You weren't the only one to be caught unaware. Grieve for the lost, don't blame yourself, no one is infallible. Don't wallow in the 'what ifs’. Only the future can ever be changed, never the past,” Daniel challenged and walked off to a responding growl from the consulting detective.  
  
Falkirk watched Daniel leave remembering a similar lecture from his old teacher, that Mansfield also gave him.  
  
\--  
  
Darren entered the ward placing the stack of paperwork down beside Falkirk's bed. Lifting off a sealed envelope Darren handed it to Falkirk. Opening the envelope Falkirk pulled out the memos. The first was from Tanner, the Attaché from the consulate would be at the hospital this evening. The second memo was from Daniel, he’d arranged for Dr. Deane to see Sherlock tomorrow. Daniel's memo contained a P.S. He would be at the hospital this evening to lend his support.  
  
Texting James to insure he would be there as well intent on showing Keading he was within the pack structure and would be defended. Falkirk hoped Keading could be convinced to stay.  
  
Seeing Keading looking to the strange Irish Omega Falkirk introduced the pair as best as he could from his bed. Going over Darren's easy attitude put the American Omega at ease. It was hard to hear what they where whispering about from the distance but Selene gave a chuckle and came over to Falkirk.  
  
“They're debating the appeal of actors from some Gladiator thing,” Selene said.  
  
Making an appreciative hum and biting his lip, “Doctore, wonderful abs,” Falkirk mused dreamily, “Don't tell James.”  
  
“Don't tell me what?” James purred coming up to his mate.  
  
“I plan to elope with a character from a TV show,” Falkirk responded absently.  
  
“The tall blond vampire?” James guessed. Taking that as her cue to leave Selene tried her luck with Alec.  
  
\--  
  
Maloney and Evans had arrived and where keeping Cody entertained. James and Selene were keeping Alec company when Daniel came in carrying a box. Daniel approached Falkirk who had moved back over to Keading in preparation for the interview. Placing a selection of cakes and pastries on Keading's table Daniel moved on. Reaching back into the box he pulled out a massive cookie and handed it to Cody.  
  
With two hands Cody plucked the cookie from the Alphas grasp giving a, “Thank you,” in response. Next Daniel placed a pecan pie next to Alec before offering the remains of the box to the room.  
  
Daniel broke the small pie into pieces and fed them to the incapacitated Operative. “How sweet,” Maloney teased.  
  
“Come into biting range and say that, boi,” Alec growled. The banter between the operatives deteriorated from there, even John was able to be pulled into the old spirit of military camaraderie.  
  
When Tanner entered a silence fell throughout the room. Daniel moved to the door while James leant against Falkirk's bed. Selene took up position beside Keading on the opposite side from Falkirk.  
  
Tanner introduced the Diplomatic Attaché as Beal. The Alpha carried himself all wrong for a diplomat, he was a thug in a suit nothing more, no matter what his credentials stated. The buzzed square head was straight out of a 50's comic book. Usually Falkirk would have asked Wade for the man's true identity but the relationship was not yet fully repaired. Falkirk's HUD was online and awaiting Peter's information.  
  
“Could we have some privacy?” the Alpha ordered.  
  
“Considering it took me fifteen minutes to get over here from my sickbed, no,” Falkirk stated unimpressed with the man. Beal's small beady eyes locked to Falkirk before casting them about the room. When the man's biography appeared Falkirk had to control his laughter. A Yale legacy, the only thing he ever excelled at was football and hookers. Beal's father had gotten him into the diplomatic core and he had staggered from one scandal to another, usually revolving around his non football passion.  
  
Beal carried on, placing his briefcase on the table going across the bed and pulled out a file. Reading the questions off, Keading answered. Beal wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, but he was respectful and was doing his job with competence. Falkirk could see James' head lulling as the interviewer mustered his mental capacity to check boxes off a form. Sherlock started comparing him to a Forensic examiner while Alec hummed 'why are we waiting'.  
  
“ENOUGH, all of you,” Falkirk snapped before giving a polite apology for the Pack's distractions.  
  
Coming to an end Falkirk casually asked, “How did you come by this assignment?”  
  
“Everyone else was afraid to come for some reason,” Beal said packing up. Falkirk thanked him for his professional conduct. Tanner escorted him out.  
  
“Fortune favours the foolish,” Mycroft observed.  
  
“Right up until the bullet in the back,” James added.  
  
Falkirk talked quietly with Keading while everyone else returned to their positions. The Omega seemed in better spirits after the successful interview. Now it was just the reunion tomorrow to deal with.  
  
\--  
  
The attractive woman of American/Hispanic heritage walked onto the ward. Her voluptuous curves not hidden by a long white coat. Every man's and even Selene's eye followed her swaying hips as she walked.  
  
Falkirk watched as she sat on Sherlock's bed, flicking her long hair over her shoulder. He became concerned as Sherlock ran rings round her. Then Falkirk recognised the tactic, just like James when he came back from the dead she waited to pounce.  
  
Letting the detective exercise his mental prowess before interrupting, “Have you ever failed to observe something? Has your failing ever resulting in tragedy?” She casually asked. Doctor Deane weathered the malicious deductions with the grace of a person who dealt with battle weary Double Os and deep cover agents reconnecting with a single life.  
  
Falkirk had sympathy for MI6's Chief Medical Officer. Although the fact that she’d come herself indicated she knew the trouble Sherlock could be to a lesser psychologist. Like with the Double Os she dealt with the most difficult cases personally.  
  
When Sherlock realised he couldn't intimidate or harass the Beta woman into running away he stopped acknowledging her. Patting his hand, “We’ll continue tomorrow,” Deane said gently with an encouraging smile.  
  
Falkirk called the woman over as she passed. Getting a progress report on Evans Falkirk asked, “Opinion on potential Double O status?”  
  
Giving her opinion Falkirk took careful note of the Doctor's words. Thanking and dismissing her he returned to his work.  
  
A steady stream of doctors and nurses traipsed in and out mostly concerning themselves with David. Shane caught one of the Doctors but he would only say, “David is stable.”  
  
James and Daniel appeared midway through the afternoon. James informed, “Keading's family are on their way.”  
  
Instructing Daniel to get Maloney Falkirk flung back the covers as James handed him a dressing gown.  
  
With James' assistance Falkirk managed to gingerly make his way across the room without his ribs hurting too much and taking the seat beside Keading's bed. Falkirk didn't need to say anything when Keading recognised the procedure.  
  
Sending a pleading glance to Selene and giving a small whine the Alpha came to stand beside Keading laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. Gently stroking his neck Selene gave the Omega an encouraging smile.  
  
Like the day before Shane pulled the curtain around his son's bed to have some privacy. With everyone in position they waited for the arrival of Keading's family.  
  
When Tanner arrived it was just Keading's sister and her mate who entered. Relaxing at the sight Keading smiled at Eva and gave a small wave, while he completely ignored her mate. A slightly older version of her brother Eva had the same soft brown eyes and black hair worn long. A slight start when she looked to James before retuning her gaze to her brother wary of approaching him. Flanked by two Alphas Eva stood at the foot of the bed giving a quite, “Hello.”  
  
James didn't miss the hint of recognition that passed over the Omega's face but his concentration was focused on the T shaped Alpha beside her, all wide shoulders and narrow hips.  
  
Gavin Tate, Eva's mate looked about the room. With almost the entire room glaring and surrounding him the Alpha's head dropped in spite of his best efforts. A sudden heavy hand landed on the back of Gavin's neck as Daniel said rather softly, “M, could you excuse us a moment.”  
  
Getting a nod from Falkirk Daniel led the Alpha out followed by Tanner.  
   
With the intruding Alpha gone James casually wandered off along with Selene. With just the three Omegas left Eva felt more confidant to approach her brother. Selene reassuringly remained in Keading's line of sight at all times. James however went to see why Daniel had frog marched the other Alpha out.  
  
Finding Tanner and the two Alphas, the American was blabbering away incoherently to the Scotsman. Removing his furious glare from Gavin, “Is the father still here?” Daniel demanded of Tanner.  
  
“Yes. He was stopped downstairs.”  
  
With a final order to Tanner to not let Gavin back onto the ward until James and himself returned Daniel marched off with James by his side. Quickly Daniel filled James in on what he had been told by Tanner as they moved to the hospital's entrance.  
  
“Jessica Alba,” James suddenly snapped as he and Daniel descended in the lift. Getting a curious look from Daniel James elaborated. “The sister. First time I met her she had bleach blond hair, blue contacts and the weirdest fake tan like Jessica Alba from Fantastic Four.”  
  
Dismissing James' ramblings Daniel looked straight ahead. “She hurt Falkirk's feelings.” James insisted.  
  
“Oh I will exact bloody retribution,” Daniel dead panned not really paying attention to James.  
  
Walking out of the lift Daniel and James headed into the lobby of the hospital. It was fairly easy identifying Gavin's father as he was just a leaner older version of his son. Lean with once black hair, now greying and green eyes. He was seated with Beal from the day before. Daniel called, “Rodger Tate?”  
  
Daniel led the way, taking the pair to the relative privacy of the MI6 secured floor. He commandeered the first consultancy room they came to flipping the sign to occupied, James entered last.  
  
Taking out his phone Daniel pulled up the access request and roster of attendees. “This clearly states Keading's father not Rodger Tate,” Daniel accused.  
  
“I'm as good as,” Tate argued as he squared his shoulders.  
  
“Not good enough, Mr Tate. If that’s who you truly are?” Daniels didn't shout but the sound filled the confined space and more.  
  
When Beal tried to intervene a crushing grasp on his neck from James quickly subdued him. “You gave up any right to diplomatic immunity the moment you set foot on this floor,” Daniel casually reminded them  
  
Glancing back to Tate who was looking between the bigger Alpha in front of him and the diplomat being restrained, ”Where were we? Ah, yes! Your presence, the deception in order to gain access to a secure ward and not making me angry,” Daniel mused.  
  
“I ain't sayin' anything,” Tate challenged.  
     
Daniel and James had matching malicious smiles. “That sounds like he does have something to say” James purred.  
  
“You have attempted to gain access to a secured area when we are still technically at war. You have failed to supply valid or convincing reasons for you deception. You are hereby suspected of being an enemy Operative and will be treated as such,” Daniel informed. Tate remained impassive throughout even now he failed to react to the accusation of being a spy.  
  
Nodding to James the operative opened the door pulling Beal out. Calling the guards over James handed the first Beal, to be returned to the lobby. The other guard was ordered to watch over Tate until transport could be arranged to take him to MI6.  
  
Walking back to the ward, “You’re telling Falkirk you arrested the father.”  
  
“Wimp,” Daniel threw back.  
  
Entering the ward Falkirk's eyes snapped to the pair of Alphas. “Run he already knows,” James teased.  
  
Walking up to Keading's bed, “Rodger Tate is on his way for interrogation,” Daniel informed.  
  
Keading and Eva looked to the Alphas in surprise. “Keep me posted,” Falkirk ordered.  
  
“Of course, M,” Daniel responded.  
  
“Gavin?” Keading prompted at his sister's suddenly distressed state.  
  
“Daniel shot him,” James dead panned. Not knowing it was a joke Eva whimpered hugging herself.  
  
“Hit him and get Gavin,” Falkirk ordered. Doing as told Daniel hit the unresisting Operative upside the head and went to get the Alpha in question.  
  
“Get out,” Falkirk snapped to James before reassuring Eva it was an insensitive joke from a dumb Alpha.  
  
“The likely hood of...” Sherlock said before Falkirk interrupted sharply, “Quiet!”  
  
Gavin stepped onto the ward and immediately wrapped the distressed Omega in his arms stroking her back and neck. It was odd for Falkirk to see the person he had always labelled a bully acting as an Alpha should. After watching the pair for a moment. “Where's Daniel?” Falkirk asked looking to Selene.  
  
Selene went to the door of the ward looking into the corridor. “No idea, I am not leaving to find them,” Selene stated.  
  
“Get Tanner,” Falkirk ordered.  
  
Before the Beta could arrive a serene looking Daniel sauntered onto the ward. Concern for James started to bubble up on Falkirk so Daniel reassured, “The wanker's unharmed.”  
  
When the reunion came to an end Falkirk watched the door swing closed behind Gavin and Eva. He turned to Daniel, “What the hell was that about?” Falkirk demanded indicating the door.  
  
“Did your sister have blond hair?” Daniel asked Keading. Getting an affirmative from Keading Daniel explained James' reason. “Apparently you and Eva met some time ago and she flirted with James, insulted you and hurt your feelings,” Daniel started going on to reawakening a long forgotten memory of a snidey shop assistant from before he and James where mated.  
  
“She was a bitch most of the time,” Keading said, a faraway look as he contemplated his own less than comforting memories of his sister.  
  
“My brothers aren't much better,” Falkirk said indicating Mycroft and Sherlock.  
  
“I was a perfect brother,” Sherlock insisted from the far side of John.  
  
“You scruffed and pinned me because you were curious about my instinctual reaction. You gave me into trouble then got me into trouble with Daddy to assess my reactions to different Alpha's aggression,” Falkirk snapped, a few of Sherlock's malicious antics as children.  
  
Seeing Mycroft glare at Sherlock and forgetting his own conduct, “At least he paid attention to me, you ignored me just as Mummy wanted.” Falkirk accused.  
  
Daniel approached Falkirk placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. When Falkirk fell silent Daniel slid an arm under his thighs and the other around him carefully to avoid the broken ribs. With relative ease Daniel lifted Falkirk up and gently carried him the few paces to his bed.  
  
Sherlock, Alec and Mycroft were in silent glaring contests as Daniel placed his burden down. Catching Selene's eye Daniel nodded towards the door. Taking the hint she went to find James. A soft swishing sounded and Shane appeared from the curtain coming up to Falkirk and grasping his hand.  
  
“You don't really blame them do you?” Shane asked sympathetically. Falkirk just gave a tired shake of the head in answer.  
  
“Our parents were monsters who never found their own happiness and couldn't stand seeing happiness in others and I hope they are rotting in hell,” Shane said, hatred for his parents conduct colouring in his words.  
  
Selene returned with James in tow. Pointing to Keading, “You owe him an apology,” Falkirk ordered. Like a chastised child James plodded over to Keading and muttered something to quiet to carry and even bore his neck to the Omega.  
  
With the apology delivered James returned. He slid in beside Falkirk and the omega rested against his Alpha. James pulled the precious bundle close, giving soft kisses and nuzzles. Stroking the Omegas neck and back, breathing in the new scent and relaxing James could feel when Falkirk started releasing the pheromones to subdue him. James' head became fuzzy, a hand wandered to the centre of Falkirk's stomach wondering when he would see / feel the bulge indicating the life within. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With just Falkirk and James to go to their new home. I might update again soon(over the weekend) to get this out of the way.


	26. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to acknowledge a volunteer who proofread and acted as Beta for Then a Soldier. I am working with Dragon_Fire and wish to thank her for the time and effort involved.

Daniel entered the ward the next day later than usual placing a transcript of Rodger Tate's interrogation in front of Falkirk. Falkirk chuckled at the techniques used that the Americans didn't consider torture. Tate had admitted to being approached by Glenallen Walken, a Senator pushing for the presidential nomination. The Senator wanting to look stronger than the President by trying to repatriate the kidnapped citizens. While not an act of espionage it would be highly embarrassing to the mending relationship between the countries.  
  
“Add the report and Tate's transcript to the dossier for the PM. He may as well have the benefit,” Falkirk ordered Daniel, handing back the folder.  
  
Mycroft, prompting, “Is that wise?”  
  
“It's no use to me so let Urquhart have the benefit,” Falkirk responded.  
  
A pained groan drew the rooms attention to Falkirk's other side. Shane darted up from his doze and looked over his son's contorting features. Telling him to be still Shane calmed his son's movements as best as he could.  
  
Falkirk pressed the call button but a nurse appeared too quickly to have been responding to him. Typically the curtain was drawn as the medical staff got to work. When the curtain pulled back, Shane wore a tentative smile. Showing the hope he had been controlling for so long.  
  
\--  
  
With James at his side Falkirk was wheeled out of the hospital. It was time for his second official visit to Dr Frost. The woman had come to see him a few times in hospital for emergency check-ups. Helping Falkirk into his car James drove them to the private clinic.  
  
Unlike last time Falkirk was taken into an examination room on the ground floor but still shown around by the same sour faced nurse. Waiting on the plump woman James did the typical Double O thing and poked at the equipment in the room.  
  
“Mr Bond,” Dr Frost greeted coming into the room, “and who do we have here?” she asked looking to James.  
  
Purring her name James gave his own, the doctor blushed and he subtly put back whatever he had been playing with while she was distracted.  
  
Shaking her head Dr Frost started to casually mention stress and avoiding risky situations. A low warning growl from James got her to drop the line of conversation pretty quickly. There was nothing Falkirk could do about bumping into someone who wanted to kill him so there was no point putting pressure on him for it.  
  
Moving on to the examination Falkirk disrobed behind a screen. After the examination Falkirk was instructed to lay on his side on the table. James stroked the Omega's neck as the Doctor conducted the internal scan. There was nothing really for them to see. Dr Frost said, “Everything seems in order and progressing as expected.”  
  
No matter how many times they heard a similar line the reassurance was always welcome and Falkirk and James relaxed a bit.  
  
The doctor pulled the curtain again letting Falkirk clean up and get dressed in relative privacy. Exiting the clinic Falkirk was unsure of the next appointment. Pulling away James drove, Falkirk starting to suspect the destination as their new house, confirmed as they pulled to a stop.  
  
The exterior had been fixed and repainted in a light cream just like the houses either side. With James' assistance Falkirk climbed the stairs to the gloss black front door. Immediately the door swung open, Mr Hudson stood in the elegant tailed livery of a formal butler. “Welcome Home, sirs,” he said, holding the door open for them and closed it silently.  
  
Falkirk was so taken with the change that he forgot to respond to the butler. The foyer had new tiles placed on the floor in a deep emerald green and white check pattern. The walls were a plain cream. Looking up, three green and clear crystal chandeliers had been hung, one for each level of the foyer.  
  
Heading forward Falkirk entered the library, not quite as he imagined. The mahogany shelving had been replaced with lighter coloured wood, something like rosewood, still mostly empty. Mackintosh inspired roses carved into the vertical supports of the shelves matched the Mackintosh light fixtures and stained glass panel at the top of the window. There was a settee and two low backed Mackintosh armchairs around a matching low table in front of the fireplace. To the left a high backed chair sat behind a leather topped desk, the wood toning in with the book cases.  
  
Looking to James Falkirk gave a brilliant smile torn between slipping behind the desk and continuing to explore. Then on the front edge Falkirk's heart stopped and his face became red, and redder. James seeing what his mate was looking at picked up the piece of glass, “It was recovered from the flat, why was there a paperweight in a sock drawer?”  
  
Falkirk snatched the decorative glass rod out of James' grasp hissing, “It's not a paperweight. Did Hudson unpack it?”  
  
James nodded in confusion and asked what was wrong seeing his Omega's ears starting to match his face. With a resigned slump of his shoulders Falkirk said, “When an Omega's alpha goes away he might get lonely. So he takes a bath then runs the piece of glass under the hot tap so it's not cold and goes to bed where he thinks about his Alpha and all the things he wants that Alpha to do to him and comes as close as possible with assistance of an inanimate object.”  
  
Falkirk then thumped James' chest for the silent chuckle. “Perhaps Hudson didn't know what it was, I didn't,” James consoled.  
  
“I wouldn't bet on it,” Falkirk returned, he didn't get the impression Hudson was as naïve as he appeared.     
  
Coming out of the library Mr Hudson slid open the double doors to the dining room as Falkirk approached. The Omega wasn’t quite able to meet the man's eyes.  
  
The simple oak rectangle of a dining table dominated the room. Boxes had been placed on the surface. Looking into the first, a dirty fur was on top. Recognising more of the recovered possessions from their flat Falkirk moved on.  
  
The living room attached to the dining room was sleek and stylish. A light brown dresser ran long the right wall already stocked with glasses, unopened bottles of whiskey and bourbon beside two empty, entwining, uncut crystal decanters. The light brown three piece suite with cream stitching sat around a coffee table, both with a view of the fireplace and the TV in the back corner by the French doors.  
  
As the library had been to Falkirk's taste the lounge was defiantly James'. Falkirk could just see James and Alec laying on the couches shouting at a game on TV. Giving the Alpha a pleased smile Falkirk could see the relief and pleasure in the Alpha's expression.  
  
Heading for the stairs Falkirk bypassed them and along the short corridor, first sticking his head into the guest bathroom then heading downstairs. Pottering about the rebuilt kitchen was a plump, old, Omega female talking to herself. Dressed in a rolling skirt and blouse, all covered by a long apron and a white lace bonnet to keep her hair up. Her old cockney accent thick, “Oh, 'ello Sir,” she said seeing Falkirk descending the stairs gingerly.  
  
“Mrs Bridges,” Mr Hudson introduced from behind James.  
  
“Oh, the young master remembers me,” Mrs Bridges insisted despite Falkirk having virtually no memory of the woman. As Mrs Bridges offered to make a cup of tea Falkirk thanked her but refused insisting he was just touring the house.  
  
The kitchen took up the majority of the basement area. There was a small sitting area with a dining table for the servants. Beside the storage rooms a single door stood out with a keypad beside it. Punching in a code the door buzzed and swung open. Gun racks, computers, medical supplies and rations where stored around the large panic room.  
  
Nodding Falkirk closed the door. Heading to the stairs Falkirk absently noticed the reinforced door onto the courtyard that allowed access to street level. Like the windows the entire house had been outfitted to hold off an assault as long as possible with bolt holes to hide in.  
  
Reaching the top of the basement stairs Falkirk needed a break before tackling the next set. Reaching the first floor he looked into the two back rooms both decorated simply along with the main bathroom.  
  
Entering the room at the front left of the house a king size bed was pressed against the left wall coming out into the spacious room, laid out with grey silk bedding. The room was laid in a deep red carpet, grey or black fabrics and white walls and furniture in the white or grey. It was very stylish and reminding Falkirk of a high class hotel room, a little bit more personal though.  
  
Walking in Falkirk stood at the foot of the bed, the bedroom windows to his right had a comfortable looking chair and stool in front of them. To the left, the room's entrance had a dressing table beside it. Behind Falkirk mirrored wardrobes stood along with the door to the once dressing room, now an en suite. It needed James and his scent to make it comfortable but in time that would make it a home.  
  
Turning around Falkirk looked into the bathroom pleased to see his desired sunken bath in the centre of the room easily big enough for James and himself. All fitted out in pale marble and tiles with modern chrome fixtures.  
  
He looked to the bed and then James. “Up for one more stop?” James asked. Nodding Falkirk held out his hand for James to come help him. Careful of the ribs James supported his mate up to the next floor and into the room directly above theirs that had now been converted to a nursery. It held a new crib with a mobile already hung over it and a changing table. It was just the basic pieces of furniture so far in a matching white and simple design. Something gripped deep in Falkirk's chest and he needed to lean against James. Something like shock and happiness, it made tears well up and the world pass in a blur.  
  
Slowly Falkirk's blurry eyes cleared and felt a rough thumb wipe his cheek. James untied his shoes and removed his socks. As James placed Falkirk's foot back down the deep red carpet felt soft, deep and luscious between his curling toes. James continued to strip Falkirk and lay him against the soft cool sheets. Stripping himself James slid in beside his mate and pulled him in close.  
  
The fresh, clean sheets of the bed that felt so big after the hospital. Free of the scents of distress, stress and sickness all mixed in with strangers and disinfectant. Falkirk quickly relaxed against his mate breathing in the scent of his and only his Alpha. “I'm Pregnant,” Falkirk said voice hollow, finally saying the words to James.  
  
“Yes you are,” James responded pleasantly.  
  
“It's all your fault,” Falkirk complained.  
  
Giving his mate's shoulder a kiss, James replied, “Yes dear, it is. My Omega.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all those who took the time to read. To those who left comments they helped me realise I wasn't talking(posting) to myself and were much appreciated.
> 
> I have written the next part 'Then the Justice' which will cover a long period in Falkirk's life, about 14 years. With several storylines, going from Falkirk and James becoming parents to, I don't want to spoil the end. Hopefully a few months before I start posting again(don't hold me to that)
> 
> I have several other fics with my Beta. As they are returned they will go up.
> 
> Upcoming. A sequel to my soulbond fic, 'To Protect My Child' set during the events of Spectre. A fic with James as a Incubus and Q as a fairy. An AU mission fic where James finds a boy in the hands of terrorists. Hopefully my 19th century fic, it has been sitting around for a while will go up soon. 
> 
> Stuff I'm working. The final two parts of Seven Ages. A large sci-fi/steam puck fic with influences from Babylon 5 and Mass Effect. And a fairytale/game of Thrones style thing where Q rises an army against his father, a mad religious nut job.
> 
> Much thanks
> 
> ff_fan


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